DiagnosisRevenge
by Poohbear-29
Summary: Steve pays the price when Mark fails to save a patient's life.
1. Chapter 1

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Author--Winnie

Rating--T for language and violence

Characters--Steve Sloan, Mark Sloan, Jesse Travis, Amanda Bentley

Disclaimer--I own no claim to Diagnosis Murder or the characters. This story was written for enjoyment only and no profit will be made from it.

Comments--I've recently bought season one of Diagnosis Murder and it brought back the reasons why I enjoyed the show. Barry Van Dyke is a wonderful actor and brought the character of Steve Sloan to life. Dick Van Dyke also portrayed Mark Sloan memorably and the rest of the cast were also a joy to watch. This is my first Diagnosis Murder fic and I hope you enjoy it.

Mark Sloan had never been so tired in his life and sank wearily onto the chair before rubbing at tired eyes. How many times had he been in this position? How many families had he faced with the news that their loved one hadn't made it?

"Mark, are you okay?" Amanda Bentley asked from the open doorway. She'd seen Mark Sloan enter the doctor's lounge after speaking with the couple now being consoled by the hospital chaplain.

"I'm just tired, Amanda," Mark answered as she poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Bentley told him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"He was just a kid, Amanda…17 years old and he should have been surfing or playing ball not robbing some liquor store," Sloan said. "I just don't understand what's happening with young people today."

"I know and it scares me to think how many kids are turning to crime."

"I worry about Steve because they are so young. He finds it hard to talk about his job when it involves a kid like Brian Johnson. His father said he could have had a full scholarship, but chose the easy way," Mark spat. "Why can't they understand the easy way usually ends the hard way?"

"It's the way the world is today, Mark, all we can do is keep hoping for the best and make sure we teach the proper values to our loved ones. Why don't you go home and get some rest?"

"I think I will, Amanda," Sloan said, placing the untouched cup of coffee on the table and standing up. He'd spent four grueling hours doing everything in his power to save the young man, but the damage had been beyond repair and he'd been forced to call it when the boy's heart refused to start again.

"Is Steve home yet?" Amanda asked knowing Steve Sloan had been at a conference on the use of firearms.

"He should be unless he was asked to give another talk on cleaning weapons," Mark said, smiling at the thought of his son being cajoled into public speaking. "Damn, I was supposed to meet Jesse…"

"I'll tell him what happened," Amanda assured her friend. "He'll understand, Mark."

"Thanks, Amanda," Mark said and sighed tiredly. "I'll see you in the morning."

Amanda watched him leave and reached for the cup of black coffee. She took several sips and thought about Steve Sloan. Mark's son was a damn good cop and she knew he would be able to talk with his father and ease some of the pain the senseless death had caused. She finished the coffee and headed back to her office to finish up several reports before heading home to her own family.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Damian Ryan was angrier than he'd ever been in his life. At 21 years old he'd been part of a gang for over ten years. Now he was the undisputed leader of the east side gang known as El Diablo. He found it ironic that he'd been called after the kid in the movie 'The Omen' and had done everything he could to prove he deserved the name. He'd made his first kill at the age of thirteen and had killed again without emotion. His father had once said he had no soul and his answer had been that he did…it was just so black it couldn't be seen. Shortly afterward he'd killed both his parents and made it look like an accident, but he'd enjoyed listening to their scream as the fire ate at their bodies.

"Damian."

He turned at the sound of the voice and smiled at the pretty young woman standing there. He'd found her working the streets and had quickly trained her in the way of gang life. She wore his colors and his mark, a tattoo depicting the three 6s associated with Satan with pride. "Has there been any word from Tito?"

"He just called to say Brian didn't make it…"

"Sonofabitch!" Damian spat. Brian had shown such promise and he'd been grooming him to become his right hand, but the liquor store robbery had gone bad and the kid had wound up being shot by the clerk. He knew the doctor who was working on Brian and had already put a plan in place should Mark Sloan fail to save Brian's life.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Call Tito and have him set the trap…we'll meet him there in half an hour and tell him to make sure nothing screws this up, Tatiana!" Damian turned back to the broken window and stared out at the street three floors below. The old apartment building was scheduled to be demolished, but so far the city hadn't shown any sign that they were ready to move. This is where they would take their latest victim and make damn sure Mark Sloan understood what happened when he'd crossed paths with El Diablo.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve Sloan sighed as he turned onto the road that would lead to the beach house he shared with his father. He hated conferences, but understood the need for them and had actually enjoyed himself over the last few days. Amanda had called to let him know that his father had gone home early and told him how devastated he'd been over the young man's death. Steve knew about the gangs and they'd been clamping down on several, but had yet to make any real arrests.

Steve drove along the familiar road, enjoying the solitude as the bright moon shone down from high overhead. He frowned as his headlights caught on something on the shoulder of the road and pulled to the side before exiting his car. He jogged the short distance calling to the young woman, but got no reaction as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right, Miss?"

"I'm fine, Lieutenant Sloan," Tatiana said with a smile and turned, stumbling into him before he had a chance to react.

Steve felt something stab into his shoulder and cried out as he shoved her away. He reached for the blade in his shoulder and pulled it free as he hurried toward his car. He reached for his gun, but had no chance to pull it free as his legs struck against something and he lost his balance. He hit the pavement hard and tried to roll over, but a kick to his left side had him gasping for air as his gun was torn from his grasp.

Steve fought to get up, but something struck his right temple and he went down hard. He heard malicious laughter as his arms were pulled behind his back and metal cuffs were locked in place. He continued to struggle in spite of the blurred vision, but there were too many of them and several more blows landed on his body as his ankles were tied together. Darkness swam at the edge of his vision as he was turned onto his back and someone knelt on his chest.

"Your father will find out what it means to cross El Diablo, Lieutenant Sloan…too bad you're the one who has to suffer for his mistakes, but who better than a pig to pay the price," Damian stated and struck Steve with the butt of his own gun. "Tito, Marco get him in the trunk and then lock up his car…wouldn't want it to get stolen so close to home."

Damian pulled Tatiana into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. "You did good, Tati…now we can have some fun and make Dr. Sloan and his son wish they'd ever heard of El Diablo."

"Are we going to kill him?" Tatiana asked.

"In good time, but first we have to make Dr. Sloan suffer," Damian said, smiling as Sloan's body was dumped into the trunk of his car. He waited for Tito and Marco to lock up Sloan's vehicle and climbed into the driver's seat of his own car. He waited for the others to get in and then drove back toward the city and the abandoned building they called home.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark Sloan nursed the glass of wine and relaxed in the chair as he watched the sky overhead. Steve had called from the airport to say he'd be home tonight and Mark looked forward to seeing his son. Jesse had stopped by and brought ribs from BBQ Bob's, but had gone home soon after because he had an early shift at Community General.

Mark stood up when the phone began to ring and hurried inside. He picked it up and placed it against his ear before speaking. "Sloan…"

"Dr. Sloan, do you have any idea what it's like to lose someone you care about?"

"Who is this?" Mark asked, frowning as soft laughter reached his ears.

"You don't know me…at least not yet, but I'm afraid I've personally introduced myself to your son…he didn't enjoy our first meeting, and I doubt he'll enjoy our next one either…"

"Steve…where is he?"

"He's with me…would you like to speak with him? Oh wait, it's too early for that, but perhaps I can let you hear him. Just give me a second to find the best way to make him scream…"

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve had regained conciousness has they'd carried him into a room and dumped him on a rotting mattress, but he'd kept silent until he'd been left alone. He'd tried to free his hands, but the cuffs were tight enough to cut off the circulation. He struggled with the bindings around his ankles, but whoever had tied the knots made damn sure he wouldn't get out of them. A sound outside the closed door made him go still and he kept his eyes closed as footsteps got closer.

"Your Dad wants to hear you scream, Lieutenant Sloan," Damian told him and brought his foot down on Steven's inner thigh, grinding the heel until his captive cried out..

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

"No…God no!" Mark cried, but the unmistakable sound of his son's scream had him drop to his knees. "Stop!"

"You didn't say please, Dr. Sloan…"

"Please, stop," Mark answered easily.

"That's better…now, Dr. Sloan, you should keep your phone line open because I will be calling back and who knows…maybe I'll make a mistake and you'll find me before your son dies…then again maybe not…"

The line went dead and Mark Sloan felt as if he'd been sucker punched as he stared at the useless instrument. He knew he should call Captain Newman, but right now all he could think about was Steve and who had him.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve managed to stay conscious as his captor hung up the phone and reached down to grab him by the hair, twisting until they were face to face. Steve could smell the stale tobacco and liquor on the younger man's breath and fought the churning nausea in his gut.

"My name is Damian, Lieutenant Sloan," Ryan said. "You're here until I think your father's suffered enough so lie back and enjoy your new digs."

Steve watched him leave and tried to control the nausea, but the smell of the soiled mattress was disgusting and he turned onto his side as bitter bile rose in his throat. Again and again he heaved until there was nothing left and he sank weakly onto his side and lay still. Darkness reached out for him and there was no choice, but to embrace it as pain fared through his skull.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 2

Mark looked at the phone in his hand for several long seconds, willing it to ring, but there was nothing but dead silence. He knew he had to act, had to get the police involved and call Jesse, but his hand trembled uncontrollably as he ran his fingers through his hair. Taking a deep breath, Mark called the precinct and asked to speak with Captain Walter Newman. It wasn't long before Steve's boss answered.

"Dr. Sloan, please tell me you're calling to invite me to dinner and not because Steve's in trouble," Newman teased lightly of Steve's ability to find trouble without even trying.

"I wish it was that easy, Captain, but Steve's been kidnapped and I need…"

"I'll send a car right out," Newman said. "Do you have any idea who took him?"

"He called me…sounded young, but cruel," Mark answered. "Look, whoever took him asked me if I knew what it was to lose someone. I got the impression that he lost someone and blames me for that loss."

"Sounds like a typical scenario," Newman said. "I'll have someone sent over to put a tap on your phone. Did he ask for any ransom?"

"No, I don't think he will…he wants Steve to suffer," Mark told him. "Look, I need to call Jesse and Amanda and let them know what's happened."

"Look, Dr…Mark, Steve's a good man…and a damn good cop. Whoever this sonofabitch is just might find out the hard way that he's messed with the wrong man."

"Thank you, Captain…"

"Mark, call me if you hear from them before my men arrive," Newman ordered.

"I will," Sloan said and hung up. He dialed Jesse's number and was relieved when the younger man answered.

"Travis…"

"Jesse, it's Mark…"

"Hi, Mark, did Steve get home all right?"

"No…that's why I'm calling. Steve's been kidnapped…"

"What? Did you call the police? I'll be there as soon as I can…are you all right?"

"Easy, Jesse, I'm okay and yes, I called Newman. He's sending some men, but I…"

"I'm on my way, Mark…did you call Amanda?"

"Not yet," Sloan answered.

"Maybe you should keep your line open…I'll call Amanda and pick her up before heading for your place," Travis explained.

"Thanks, Jesse, I'll be here," Sloan said and hung up. He walked toward the door leading to his son's apartment and leaned wearily against it, as if hoping and praying would work to make this all a nightmare. He opened the door and listened, but no sound came from the lower level. "Steve," he called several times, but there was no answer. He flipped on the light and walked down the stairs, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he looked around his son's apartment and found it exactly as Steve had left it. He returned to the upper floor and moved outside; hoping the cool breeze from the ocean would help clear his head.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve had no idea how long he'd been out, and listened for any sign that his captor had returned. There was no sound and he slowly peeled one eye open and looked around. The stench form the mattress sent his stomach churning, but he fought down the bitter bile that rose in his throat. It burned with an acidic power, but he managed to quell the nausea before shifting on the mattress. His arms were tied behind him and his ankles were now bound and linked to his wrists, making it impossible to find a comfortable spot.

Steve silently cursed his nemesis as he struggled with his bonds, but succeeded only in making the knots tighter. He rolled onto his side, crying out as sore muscles protested this new abuse and wound up turning onto his right side and lying still. His entire body ached, but he'd been through worse and knew he could not quit, not when Damian could return any minute. Steve silently cursed as the gang leader suddenly stood over him.

"Well, Lieutenant Sloan, it's good to have you back with us. I was just telling Tati that it's hard to have a party when the guest of honor is sleeping. Tito, you and Jordy get in here and help Lieutenant Sloan to his feet…oh, wait, you'll have to carry him because he's all tied up at the moment."

"Is it time, Damian?"

"It sure is Tati," the gang leader answered, punctuating his words with a kick to Steve abdomen. "We're going to show Lieutenant Sloan what we think of cops!"

Jordy and Tito grinned as they entered the room and grabbed the captive under the arms and dragged him into the outer room.

They dumped him on the floor and Steve blinked rapidly in an effort to clear his murky vision. The sound of chains rattling caused him to look up and he knew instinctively what they had in mind. An exposed beam stood out against a darker background of useless wires that had once carried electricity through the derelict apartment. A heavy chain was thrown over the beam and at each end was a link that could be locked into the cuffs around his wrists.

"Now, Lieutenant," Damian said, grinning as he stood in front of the downed man. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way…but I should warn you either way will not be easy for you. One way or the other we will lock those chains on your wrists and help you stand up. Now we could easily hook it up, lift you and then cut the ropes binding your arms to your ankles, but that would be painful and well, pain is something you'll have enough of once this party really starts."

Steve glared at the young man who'd spoken, but refused to answer as the others gathered around him. There were at least six males and two females, but there was no doubt that Damian was the one in charge. He remembered seeing a rap sheet on Damian Ryan and there was no doubt in his mind that this was one and the same. Ryan was head of a gang known as El Diablo and they'd been terrorizing several local store owners on the south side, the problem was no one would press charges or agree to testify against Ryan's gang.

"Damian, I think the cat got his tongue," Tatiana pouted as she knelt in front of Steve and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking it back to reveal the corded muscles in his throat.

Steve gritted his teeth as she placed the tip of a pointed knife at his throat and pressed it against his Adam's apple. He didn't take his eyes of Damian Ryan, and felt something trickle down his neck as the young woman continued to play the knife across his throat.

"You don't want to make Tati angry, Lieutenant, because she tends to practice her cutting when she's angry," Damian told him, smiling as he watched his girlfriend place the knife against Sloan's right shoulder. "She's gonna hurt you, Lieutenant…"

Steve cried out as the blade bit deep into his shoulder, blood welling up around the wound as he struggled to escape the fiery agony. He felt her twist the knife and cried out.

"That's enough for now, Tati," Damian warned, but she seemed beyond hearing and he grabbed her wrist. "I said that's enough, Tati. I need him alive so that his father knows he made a mistake in killing Brian."

"I was just having fun, Damian," the girl said and pulled the knife free.

"Tito, cut the rope and release his hands on my signal," Damian said ignoring his pouting girlfriend as he knelt in front of his captive.

"What if he tries something?" Jordy asked.

"Ain't much he's gonna be able to do, Jordy," Damian observed with a grin. "Besides, if he tries anything I'll just do this."

Steve cried out as his captor dug his fingers into the raw wound and silently cursed the bitter fluid that threatened to explode from his throat. The pain was unbearable, so bad that he didn't even realize his hand had been released until it was too late. While Damian continued to torture him, the others had pulled him to his feet and locked his arms to the chain he'd seen when they'd first brought him in. He managed to breathe through the pain and opened his eyes as someone ripped his shirt down the back.

"Now, Lieutenant, we don't want you bleeding out, so Tati is going to practice her nursing and fix your shoulder," Damian told him, smiling as Tatiana moved to stand in front of the captive.

Steve felt her press a wet cloth against the ravaged flesh and couldn't stop the scream that escaped. The smell of cheap whiskey reached his nostrils as he took a deep breath and fought against the restraints. The dirty material was held in place for several minutes while Jordy used a belt to keep it there.

"Tati, you really should warn a guy before you do that," Damian said, pulling her to him and brutally kissing her lips.

"What's the fun in that?" Tatiana asked once he released her.

"True…very true," Damian answered and returned his attention to the police officer. "Now, Lieutenant, what do you think of Tati's bedside manner…oh wait, you're not in a bed so it doesn't count. Guess that mean you done good, Tati."

"Thank you, Damian," the girl said sweetly.

"What about you, Lieutenant? Are you gonna thank Tati for taking such good care of you?" Damian asked, slapping Steve's face to make sure he had his full attention.

"Go to hell!" Steve managed, amazed at how strong his voice sounded.

"I'm sure we'll get there someday, Lieutenant, but for now we're here to make your life a living hell," Damian told him and reached for something that had been out of Steve's line of vision. "Your father…the almighty Dr. Mark Sloan is going to regret killing Brian…"

"Did…didn't kill any…one," Steve managed once the pain in his shoulder subsided to a dull roar.

"How would you know, Lieutenant? Were you there? Did you see what your father did to Brian? No, you were probably out drinking coffee and eating donuts with all your cop friends," Damian spat and made a point of tapping the new item against his open palm. "Your father killed Brian Johnson and I figure the best way to get retribution is by killing you, but…and here's the best part…you'll suffer before you die and your father will blame himself for your death. He'll know that he's the reason for what's happening to you and there's not a damn thing he can do to stop it."

"Damian, I'm ready," Jordy said and stood in front of the victim.

"Wonderful…now Lieutenant, Jordy is going to make a home movie just for your dear old dad…is there anything you'd like to say to him before we begin?" Damian asked.

"I think that cat got his tongue again, Damian," Tati said.

"That's okay…I'm sure once he gets to know this intimately his tongue will loosen up," Damian said and signaled for Jordy to start taping. They all knew once the camera started they were not to speak or stand too close. He wasn't stupid and had made sure everything that could give away their location had been removed. He moved behind the captive and ran his fingers down the bare skin, stopping when his fingers touched against a scar that could only have been made by a bullet.

Steve felt the man's hands on his back and he waited for the whip to fall. When it did, his body shook uncontrollably, spasming as it struck again before he had a chance to brace himself. He closed his eyes and fought to breathe past the trail of fire the whip left in its wake and wished there was some way of keeping this from his father. The laughter from the other gang members told him his father would see every agonizing minute of it. He lifted his head and opened his eyes, staring straight at the camera as he mouth the words 'El Diablo' several times before the pain became too intense and darkness beckoned to him.

Jordy flipped off the stolen camera and lowered it before speaking. "He's out, Damian."

"Damn and we were only just beginning. Oh well…make sure Dr. Sloan gets that," Damian said and reached for his girlfriend. "Tati, why don't you and I go work off some adrenalin?"

"Oh, Damian, I love it when you get so worked up," Tatiana said and followed him into the room they shared.

"What about Sloan?" Tito asked.

"Leave him where he is for the moment…we'll wake him up in an hour or so and teach him another lesson for his old man's sake," Damian said and slammed the door with his foot.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark watched as the officers placed a tap on his phone and wished it would ring. The last call from Steve's kidnappers had left him sick to his stomach, but the silence was even worse. He heard voices outside and opened the door, relieved to see Jesse and Amanda speaking to Walter Newman. Steve's captain had showed up with the other officers and had been overseeing everything including the search of Steve's car. The first patrol car had found it parked on the side of the main road, the keys still in the ignition, but the doors were locked.

"Mark, how are you holding up?" Amanda asked, hugging the older man.

"I'm okay, Amanda…just worried," Sloan answered. "Captain Newman and his men are searching through everything."

"Has there been anything new from the kidnappers?" Jesse asked.

"Nothing," Mark answered and ushered them into the house where an officer motioned for Mark to join him.

"Okay, Dr. Sloan, when the phone rings I want you to wait until the second ring to answer it just so we can make sure everything is working properly," Jake Meyers advised.

"Mark, have you eaten?" Amanda asked.

"No…I'm not really hungry," Mark answered.

"That's okay…I'll make some sandwiches and coffee," Bentley told him and moved to the kitchen.

"Mark, do you have any idea who they are?" Jesse asked.

"No, Jesse, but it's my fault Steve is in this mess. The caller asked if I knew what it was like to lose someone," the physician explained tiredly. The events of the day had taken a toll on him, but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind.

"Mark, Steve's strong…"

"I know he is, Jesse, but there's something about this guy that screams psycho," Mark said.

"Dr. Sloan, one of your neighbors would like to speak to you," Newman said from the open doorway.

Mark stood up and hurried outside, frowning when he saw the young man standing there. "Phillip, is something wrong?"

"I don't know, Dr. Sloan, but mom found this in our mailbox when we got home…it's addressed to you, but there's no postage or anything," Phillip Reardon told him.

"Thank you, Phillip," Mark said. The young man was fifteen and had quickly found a friend in Steve Sloan. Steve was showing him how to sail and water ski, while helping Phillip come to terms with his father's death. Donald Reardon had been a truck driver who did long hauls across the southern US. He'd been killed when his trailer jackknifed on a busy street causing a five car pile up. The insurance company was reluctant to pay John's policy until Steve investigated and cleared John's name. That had been nearly a year ago and Phillip had already shown an interest in becoming a cop like Steve.

"You're welcome…is Steve home?" Phillip asked hopefully.

"He's not back yet, Phillip," Mark lied. "I'll have him call you when he shows up."

"Are you sure you're okay, Dr. Sloan?"

"I'm just tired, Phillip…"

"I saw Steve's car and figured something must have happened when the police showed up," the young man said.

"I'm sorry, Phillip, I can't talk about it right now," Mark said and fought to keep a tight rein on his emotions.

"Okay…but if I can help…"

"I'll call you…thank you, Phillip," Mark said and waited for Jesse to close the door.

"Mark, take this," Amanda said and handed him a cup of strong coffee.

"Dr. Sloan, do you know who that's from or what it contains?" Newman asked, but received no answer as the phone began to ring. He counted down from two and nodded for Mark to answer.

"Sloan…"

"Hello, Dr. Sloan, I'm sure by now you received my little gift and you're wondering what's inside it. Well, let's just say it's a message from me and your son to you. Make sure you butter the popcorn and find a comfortable seat. I'll call you back a little later to find out what you think of my directing abilities. Say hello to your son's fellow cops for me…"

The line went dead before Mark had a chance to speak and he stared at the plain package with his name on it. He knew they had to be careful not to wreck any fingerprints, but he needed to see what was on the tape. It took nearly twenty minutes for the forensics people to remove the paper and check the tape for fingerprints. Twenty minutes in which Mark imagined the worst, but nothing prepared him for what he saw when they played the tape.

"Steve," Mark whispered his son's name, but everyone in the room heard it and the distraught man soon felt himself surrounded by friends.

"He's alive, Mark, hold on to that," Amanda said. She'd seen the blood covered bandage on Steve's right shoulder and she'd grimaced each time she heard the whip make contact with his back.

"Mark, could you rewind that for me…"

"Jesse, he's seen enough," Amanda warned.

"No…I mean I think Steve is trying to tell us something," Jesse said. "Rewind it about two minutes and watch his face."

Mark did as the younger man said and everyone watched the TV screen with interest as the scene played out before them. "Jesse's right," Sloan said.

"We need someone who can read lips," Amanda said.

"I know a couple of people who can do it…including Janet Teasdale," Jesse said of the new nurse who worked in the maternity ward.

"I'd rather we didn't let too many people in on this, Dr. Sloan, so if it's okay with you we'll bring in a police specialist who works with the deaf," Newman said.

"All right," Mark said, staring at the final scenes as his son lost consciousness and blood dripped from the bandage on his shoulder. _'Hold on, Steve, we're going to find you,'_ he silently vowed.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 3

Steve's return to consciousness was not a welcome one, and he tried to ignore the fiery agony of his back. He heard voices and didn't want to draw attention to himself so he stayed as he was, hoping his father had been able to understand his message. Steve knew Damian and his gang members were dangerous and sooner or later they would kill him, but so far they seemed to enjoy taunting his father.

"Playing dead don't work here, Lieutenant, Sloan…"

Steve heard the voice close to his ear and cried out when Damian slapped his back open handedly. Laughter echoed through the abandoned apartment, and Steve gritted his teeth as his tormentor ran his fingers down the raw, ravaged flesh. His body trembled convulsively as he opened his eyes and stared hard at his tormentor.

"Well, Lieutenant, it seems your father brought the police into this and I'm sure he was warned not to do that…"

"Dad's not stu…stupid," Steve ground out.

"I believe he is or else he doesn't care what happens to you. Perhaps he needs to see you suffer even more," Damian said, smiling as he motioned for his girlfriend.

Steve watched as the young woman handed the gang leader a weapon and swallowed several times as Damian placed it against his throat. Sloan felt a trickle of blood as the tip penetrated his skin and fought to keep from swallowing.

"I know some people believe we all have a third eye, Lieutenant, so maybe your father would enjoy seeing yours loud and clear," Ryan spat. "Your father killed one of ours, Lieutenant, and he must pay for that."

"Dad didn't kill anyone," Steve managed, crying out as someone slapped his damaged back and caused him to jerk against his bonds. Fingers grabbed his chin and pinched his face until he was staring into the coldest eyes he'd ever seen in his life. Damian's fingers tightened as he slid them down the strong neck and squeezed until he cut off his captive's air.

"You're father is a murderer! He killed Brian and we are going to see that justice is done! He took one of ours and we are returning the favor…an eye for an eye, Lieutenant Sloan!" Damian released his hold and stood back, holding the knife as if it was a thing of worship. "This belonged to Brian Johnson, Lieutenant, and I think it only fitting that it be used to make you and your father suffer!"

Steve watched as the others rallied around Damian, their eyes dangerous, their mouths set in thin lines that spoke of anger. He watched as the flickering candles flickered off the blade and knew the red coloring at the tip was his blood. He held his body rigid as Damian moved toward him and placed the point against his side, slashing downward and sending spasms of pain through his body. His world erupted in agony as Damian passed the blade to his girlfriend and allowed her to make the next cut on his body. The blade sank into his right shoulder, but she stopped short of driving it in too deeply.

Steve had no idea how long this went on, but he felt the blade slash at him twice more before allowing the darkness to claim him once more.

Damian was please to see the marks his gang had made, but he also knew if he wanted Mark Sloan to suffer they would need to keep the cop alive. "Tati, tend his wounds and make sure he doesn't bleed out!"

"Should I use the whiskey?" Tatiana asked with a smile.

"Not the good stuff," Damian said and tossed her a bottle of cheap whiskey they'd stolen from a homeless bum whose body was now decaying in a sewer near the north end of the city.

Tatiana quickly poured whiskey over the raw wounds, dousing the knife wounds and pouring it down their victim's back, relishing the cries her ministrations tore from the semi conscious cop.

"Ah, Hell, Tati, you woke him up," Tito said and snapped several pictures, making sure none of the gang was in them.

"Damn, sorry, Tito, but the cop seems to be uncomfortable," Tatiana told him and placed her fingers beneath Steve's chin, lifting until she was looking into his eyes. "I am taking good care of you, Lieutenant; don't you think you should thank me?"

Steve tried to focus, but the face and the words made little sense to him as whatever she'd poured on his wounds burned like hellfire. He felt her fingers on his chin, and his eyes began to close, but something soft brushed against his lips and he smelled the sickly sweet smell of stale liquor. He snapped his head forward and heard a scream, one that was mirrored by his own when a blow landed on his lower back.

"He broke my nose, Damian!" Tatiana cried as blood flowed onto her hands and between her fingers.

"It ain't broken, Tati," Damian assured her once the bleeding stopped.

"He should pay for hurting me," the young woman said.

"He will," the gang leader said of the unconscious cop as he held his sobbing girlfriend. "You'll get your chance when he wakes up again."

Tatiana stared at the cop who'd caused her pain and smiled at the thought of making him suffer even more. She let Damian hold her and ran her fingers along the blade of the knife he still held in his hand. Steve Sloan would pay dearly for what he'd done to her, of that she was certain.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Walter Newman watched as Mark Sloan, Jesse Travis, and Amanda Bentley tried to decipher what Steve was saying, but they were not trained to read lips and until Connie Evans showed up it would only be conjecture. The sound of a car pulling to a stop outside had them all on their feet as he pulled the main door open and spotted the female psychiatrist hurrying toward him. Evans worked primarily with the deaf and was well trained at lip-reading. She'd worked with the police on several cases and knew Steve Sloan personally.

"Walter, has there been any news?"

"Nothing yet, Connie," Newman answered and motioned her inside. "Dr. Sloan, I'd like you to meet Dr. Constance Evans."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Sloan, I just wish it was under better circumstances," Evans said, shaking the older man's hand.

"So do I, Dr. Evans," Mark agreed and motioned to Amanda and Jesse. "This is Dr. Jesse Travis and Dr. Amanda Bentley…they are close family friends."

"Pleased to meet you both, now why don't we take a look at the video and see if Steve is trying to give you a message, Dr. Sloan," Evans said and followed Mark into the living room.

Mark turned on the TV and set the VCR to play the tape. His heart beat increased as he watched his son's suffering and he watched the police specialist closely as she got her first glimpse of Steve Sloan.

"Oh, God, Steve," she whispered, her heart in her throat as she looked at the man she'd come to admire since first meeting him six months ago. Unbeknownst to anyone else they'd been seeing each other and she knew she could easily fall in love with the handsome lieutenant, but neither was ready for a serious relationship.

"Dr. Evans, are you okay?" Jesse asked. He'd been watching the beautiful brunette whose eyes were the deepest shade of green he'd ever seen. She looked as if she worked out and he sensed there was something more to her than met the eye.

"I'm fine…it's just hard to believe people can be so cruel," Evans told them.

"Okay, this is the spot we need you to watch," Newman said and regretted not having warned her of the damage done to Steve Sloan. He'd known she was seeing Steve, but had not said anything to either of them because he considered it none of his business what they did off the job. Constance Evans wasn't a police officer and Steve had every right to see her if he wanted to.

Evans leaned forward and watched the screen closely as the captive's lips began to move. She had them replay it several times until she was sure she had it right. "Okay, he's saying El Diablo," she told them.

"El Diablo," Bentley said, shocked as she looked at Mark Sloan. She'd heard stories of the gang and their cruelty, but knew very little about them except what Steve had told them at BBQ Bobs.

"Sonofabi…" Newman cut off the expletive before looking at Mark Sloan. "Dr. Sloan, I don't know why El Diablo has singled you out, but Steve's been working on the case for several months. The gang has several hangouts, but every time we get close they disappear and turn up somewhere else. Steve's found several places where they've holed up, but we seem to be one step behind them every time."

"Steve talked about El Diablo," Jesse said. "He was angry that people weren't willing to speak up, yet they expected the police to protect them if the gang singled them out."

"I don't know a cop who isn't angry when the public decides it only goes one way," Newman said. "We know the names of the gang leader and several of his followers, but like I said they disappear every damn time we get close!"

"If El Diablo has Steve because he's a cop then why are they going after Mark?" Amanda asked.

"Dr. Sloan, are you sure you haven't had a run in with them?" Newman asked.

"Not that I know of…in the last few weeks we've had a series of emergencies involving young people. The most recent was tonight," Sloan answered and looked at the clock, surprised to see nearly six hours had passed since he'd received the first call.

"The kid from the liquor store," Newman stated.

"Yes, he never made it," Sloan told him.

"I saw the report, but never had a chance to go over it," Newman said. "Kids name was Johnson?"

"Brian Johnson…he was 17 years old," Mark answered.

"He was just a kid," Evans observed.

"They seem to be getting younger each day," Jesse offered.

"Brian Johnson," Newman repeated and frowned. "I know I've heard hat name before."

"Maybe he had a record, but his parents said this was the first time he'd done anything like this," Sloan said.

"Could be…I'll look into it when I get back to the station," Newman assured them.

"Can I get copies of the files Steve was working on concerning El Diablo?" the older physician asked. He'd helped Steve on several cases and had a bit of a reputation at the station. Steve's co-workers knew who he was and admired his instincts and had come to him, Amanda, and Jesse for help on a particularly baffling case. They'd actually helped solve a number of cases including the Phillips fiasco that had nearly killed both him and Steve.

"I'll have them sent over," Newman promised and stood up.

"Dr. Sloan, if there's anything I can do to help please don't hesitate to ask," Evans told the worried man and found herself being scrutinized by the sad eyes.

"Please stay, Dr. Evans," Mark said and walked Newman to the door. "Does she know Steve well?"

"I'm not sure, but the rumor mill has it they've been seeing each other for a couple of weeks," Newman answered. "Mark, I'm leaving two officers outside and Detective Miller will stick around in case they call back."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Steve's a good man and I can tell you every available man will be looking for him and the gang."

Mark nodded and closed the door before returning to the living room and taking a seat next to Amanda Bentley. He was about to speak, but was cut off when Evans opened up to him.

"Dr. Sloan, I don't know if Steve talked to you about me, but we've been seeing each other for a couple of weeks now," she told them.

"I knew he was seeing someone, but he never said anything," Mark said.

"I asked him not to say anything until I was sure of myself, Dr. Sloan…"

"Please, call me Mark."

"Thank you, Dr…thank you Mark. Please call me Connie," the psychiatrist said. "If there's anything I can do to help find Steve I will."

"We'd welcome any help," Mark told her, turning when the doorbell rang and one of the officers entered.

"Dr. Sloan, this was left on the wharf."

"Thanks, Danny," Mark said and took the plain manila envelope. His name was written in sloppy lettering across the front of the envelope. His hand shook visibly as he realized there were smudges that looked like dried blood underneath his name.

"Mark…"

"I'm okay, Amanda," Sloan said and found the strength he needed to carefully open the envelope. He knew they might find fingerprints on it and hoped they hadn't already been compromised. He tilted it on its side and let the Polaroid shots fall onto the table. They landed face down and he looked at Amanda as she handed him a set of tweezers. He lifted the first one and turned it, fighting hard to keep his emotions in check when he saw the blood on his son's body. There were six shots in all and each one showed the devastation his son had already suffered.

Mark silently cursed as he stood up and walked to the door. It felt as if the air had suddenly disappeared and he gasped as he stepped outside and watched the sun slowly peek above the horizon. "I'm sorry, Steve…God help me I'm so sorry."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 4

For Steve Sloan, waking up was something he didn't want to do, but as consciousness drew him back to reality, he knew his misery was only just beginning. The sun streamed in through the boarded up windows and he could see the dust dancing as if caught by an unseen breeze. The heat caused more discomfort and he could feel the sweat dripping off his hair and running down his back, burning as it came in contact with the raw wounds there.

"Tati, I think the cop is coming back to us," Damian said and used his right hand to lift the captive's face up.

"It's time he paid for what he done to me," Tatiana said and reached for the thin bladed knife on the floor beside her.

Steve heard her voice and opened his eyes, not all that surprised when his left eye refused to obey his command at first, but he finally managed to look at his two tormentors. He remembered hitting someone, and realized it must have been the young woman because her nose was swollen and blood still trickled from her nostrils as they flared in anger. His eye flashed on the knife she held in front of her, but he refused to show the fear the blade caused him.

"So, Lieutenant, what do you think Tati should do to you for messing up her pretty face?" Damian asked and pulled Tatiana into his arms.

"Why don't we let it be a surprise, Damian?" the young woman asked, running the tip of the blade down Steve's chest, leaving a thing line of blood from Adam's apple to navel.

Steve grit is teeth as she ran the tip of the blade down past his navel and along his inner thigh. He felt the knife cut through his pants, but there was no pain until she jabbed the point deep into his upper thigh. He cried out, fighting against his bonds as she pulled the blade out and placed it in front of his groin.

"Maybe I should cut off his…"

"Not yet, Tati…we can't have him bleed to death before his daddy gets here," Damian said and grabbed her wrist when she seemed to be pressing forward with the knife. "Tati, don't…I'd hate to have to teach you a lesson."

Steve wasn't sure if he should be relieved when Tatiana released the knife and it bounced off the floorboards in front of him. He cried out when she balled her hand into a fist and drove it into the wound to his right thigh and pain instantly sparked through his body. He tried to catch his breath, fight against the nausea and pain as his arms took the entire brunt when his body collapsed and bitter tasting bile rose in his throat.

"Tati, enough!" Damian warned.

"You promised I could hurt him for what he did to me!" Tatiana whimpered.

"You cut him and he's bleeding…that's enough for now. Put something on the wound before he bleeds all over the place!" Damian ordered and stood back. Tatiana pouted, but did as he told her and he felt the strength that came with domination. He knew she feared him, and that was something that helped keep her in line and made her the perfect choice to keep his bed warm for him.

Steve could feel her tie something around his thigh and her sulky voice as she moved away. He looked at Damian and knew the young man was crazy as the dark eyes filled with anger…anger that promised his father would pay.

"Well, Lieutenant, do you think your father would enjoy Tati's attention?" Damian asked. He'd been watching Steve Sloan closely during his captivity and a spark of respect had formulated during each round they'd put him through, but Damian would not let that spark grown. Mark Sloan would watch his son die…slowly and painfully before Damian took the old man's life. "It is too bad that the son must pay for the sins of the father."

"My father…"

"Your father killed Brian…"

"My father didn't kill anyone…"

"Your father is supposed to save lives, but he let Brian die. All he had to do was take out the bullet and Brian would have been fine," Damian snarled. "I had plans for Brian and he would have been good at his job, but now he's dead because some stupid storekeeper shot him and he wound up with your father as his doctor…"

"Blaming the wrong….wrong man," Steve spat.

"Oh really…and who do you think is to blame?"

"Go look…look in the mirror!" Sloan observed and was rocked off is feet when several blows landed on his midsection.

"I did not kill Brian…your father did and it's time he saw what is going to happen to his son because he screwed things up and Brian died!" Each word was punctured with bone jarring blows that ended only when Damian could no loner lift his arms. He leaned on his knees and stared at the cop before turning away and grabbing Tatiana by the arms. The adrenaline rush hit him hard and he knew there was only one thing that could help him focus. He drew her into the bedroom they shared and roughly pushed her onto the bed before stripping out of her clothes.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

"Mark, are you okay?" Jesse Travis asked upon walking outside and watching his friend's face. Mark Sloan was a damn good doctor and had saved countless lives through the years, but there were some he could not save. Jesse had been there on a couple of occasions and saw the raw pain in the older doctor's eyes upon calling the time on a person's life. This was even harder because Steve Sloan was paying for something Mark could not…should not be held accountable for.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about, Jesse," Sloan told him.

"Aren't you…I've known you for some time now, Mark, and I've seen you when something happened to Steve. You're blaming yourself when it's not your fault…"

"Isn't it?" Sloan asked angrily. "Steve's out there…somewhere and they're hurting him because they blame me for their friend's death, Jesse…that makes it my fault and I am going to do everything I can to bring Steve home and I don't give a damn what happens to El Diablo!"

"Mark, there's a phone call for you," Amanda Bentley called from the open doorway. She'd heard some of the conversation and wished there was something more she could offer, but Jesse had said the right things and that was all they could offer for now. She knew the phone call was more bad news and wished she could protect her friend from what was happening to him.

"Who is it?" Mark asked worriedly.

"I think it's the kidnappers," Amanda said as Mark rushed past her. She locked eyes with Jesse and wished there was some way to help their colleague.

Mark hurried inside and grabbed the phone, knowing that the police were recording and hoping to get a lead on El Diablo's whereabouts. "This is Mark Sloan!"

"Well hello, Dr. Sloan, I do hope you're making arrangements for your son's funeral although there may not be much left to bury when I'm through with him…"

"You bas…"

"Uhuh, Doctor, watch that language. I'm sure your friends are there and probably several police officers, but it doesn't really mater because I have your son and I know you'll do everything I say if you want to see him once more before I kill him."

"Steve didn't do anything to you…let him go and I'll come to you…"

"I'm not stupid, Dr. Sloan. If I released your son then the cops would be at my doorstep with you. No, I think you need to come to me and maybe…just maybe you'll be able to help the lieutenant."

"Is Steve…can I speak to him?"

"I'm afraid not…he's a little under the weather right now. I want you to meet me at the edge of your property and I warn you to come alone or the cop will be unable to walk for the rest of his short life."

The phone went dead and Mark looked at the officer expectantly, but one look told him the kidnapper had not stayed on the line long enough for him to get a trace. He slammed the receiver down in frustration, snatching it up again when it began to ring. "Hello!" he snapped.

"Sorry about that, Dr. Sloan, but I needed to make sure your cop friends are unable to trace my call. I want you to meet me in thirty minutes where the main road branches off and goes in three directions. Come alone and on foot, Dr. Sloan…unless you don't want the chance to say goodbye to your son…"

"I'll be there," Mark vowed as the line went silent once more. Taking a deep breath he turned to find Jesse and Amanda watching him closely.

"Mark, what did he say?" Amanda asked worriedly.

"I need to go…"

"Dr. Sloan, you know we have to go through the proper procedure," the police officer said as Connie Evans entered with a tray of coffee.

"What's happened?" Evans asked.

"He called…I have to leave," Sloan told them.

"Mark, we need to…"

"Jesse, there's no time. Steve is dead if I don't meet him…alone," the older man snapped.

"You'll both be dead if you go off on your own, Mark," Amanda said sternly. "Mark, we've all seen it happen and Steve will never forgive himself if anything happens to you."

Mark's shoulders slumped as he listened to Amanda Bentley…knowing full well she was right did not make this any easier. "I can't just let them kill him," he whispered.

"Dr. Sloan, I have the equipment need to put a wire trace on you," Officer Michael Donaldson offered.

"They'll search me for a wire," Mark said.

"I know, but there are other ways to track your movements. We have some pretty sophisticated equipment at our disposal including a small device that can be worn anywhere. It should be able to get past a search and maybe help save you and Lieutenant Sloan," Donaldson explained.

"I guess that's okay, but do it fast," Mark warned.

"Take off your shirt," Donaldson ordered and opened up the kit he'd brought with him as Connie Evans placed a call to the station and explained to Newman what was happening. "I'll put it under your arm, Dr. Sloan, and hopefully they'll miss it…if not it will look like a small mole."

Mark wished he'd stop talking and finish the task at hand. Time was of the essence and he wasn't getting any younger. Even at a fast run it would take him twenty minutes to reach the meeting spot. Once the device was in place, and Donaldson activated it, Mark grabbed his shirt and redressed, feeling every minute of the last twenty four hours as he raced out the front door without so much as a goodbye to his friends. He hit the road at a run and prayed he had not been delayed too long. He kept in shape by jogging with his son, but right now he was racing for Steve's life and his breath came in jagged huffs that sounded harsh in the early afternoon sunshine.

Mark had no idea how long it took him, but he reached the meeting area and leaned on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, praying Steve was all right before looking around and coming face to face with a young man with cruel dark eyes.

"Dr. Sloan…"

"Where's Steve?" the physician snapped.

"He's waiting for you, Dr. Sloan," Tito said with a grin. "Come along…I have a car waiting."

Mark followed him and wished he'd brought a gun with him when the younger man seemed as if he had no interest in searching him, but as they reached the car, Mark was slammed onto the hood and quickly searched before having cuffs slapped on both wrists. Before he could say anything a piece of cloth was tied around his mouth and he was thrown into the open trunk. It wasn't long before the car was moving and Mark silently prayed Steve was still alive.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve knew he was no longer hanging by his arms, but that didn't make the pain any less. His arms were secured behind his back, his ankles strapped tightly together and attached to his wrists by a length of chain that didn't allow for movement. Any movement on his part sent shockwaves of agony tearing through his body. His head ached, but he forced his eyes open when he felt someone watching him.

"Daddy's on his way, Lieutenant." Damian flashed a smile, huffing out a breath that smelled of sour whiskey. "I'm going to enjoy watching his face as I carve my initials on your chest and slice you up…"

"No…" Steve mumbled, hoping his father would not show up, yet knowing in his heart that Mark Sloan would do anything in his power to protect his family.

"Tito already picked him up and they should be here in a couple of minutes," Damian told him. "Do you want me to kill him first…make him hurt like you?"

"No," the captive snapped, closing his eyes as a sound from the outer room reached his ears.

"Looks like dear old daddy is here," Damian said with a grin. "I'll bring him to you after we've had a little chat."

Steve glared at the young man, but could no longer keep his eyes open as pain slammed through his skull and bile rose up, burning a fiery trail at the back of his throat. He could hear voices in the outer room, but couldn't quite make out what was being said. He didn't hear his father's voice and prayed Damian had lied, but his head came up as Mark Sloan was pushed through the open door and stumbled to the floor in front of him.

Steve's anger intensified when Damian kicked out, connecting with Mark's left leg and causing a muffled cry from the older man. "Bas…" He didn't finish the word as Damian slammed his foot onto Steve's calf and a sharp crack echoed through his skull.

"Now, Lieutenant, you need to learn some manners and the first one is that you should be silent unless I ask you a question!" Damian snapped before returning his attention to Mark Sloan, whose eyes were filled with a rage that defied description. "Now, Dr. Sloan, what should I do with your son?"

Marl's eyes were cold and calculating as he looked at the gang leader. He knew this was the man he'd spoken to and wanted to tear him apart for what he'd done to Steve. He silently prayed the police were on the way because right now things looked helpless for both him and Steve. He'd heard the sound of a bone breaking when Damian slammed his foot on Steve's right leg.

"I'm talking to you, Dr. Sloan," Damian snapped and kicked out at his second victim. "You need to look at me when I talk or I'll kill the pig right now!"

Mark returned his attention to his captor and wished he could wipe the smile off his face as he reached out and removed the gag from around his mouth. "Steve…"

"Don't talk to him, Dr. Sloan…talk to me!" Damian snarled.

"Let him go!" Mark snapped.

"Not a chance…"

"Let me take a look at him!"

"I repeat…not a chance. Now, I'm getting a little hungry so I'll leave you two alone for…say half an hour, but then it's time for Lieutenant Sloan to pay for your murderous surgical skills, Dr. Sloan."

Mark watched the young man leave and close the door behind him. He ignored the pain of his abused body as he scooted across the floor and lay beside his son. "Steve, I'm here, Son…"

"Shouldn't have come…kill you…" Steve mumbled, his voice hitching as he tried to breathe through the agony of a broken limb.

"Help's on the way, Steve…just hold on a little longer," Mark ordered and wished there was some way of holding his injured son.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 5

Walter Newman watched as the blip continued on the screen, showing that Mark Sloan was stationary. He prayed they had not made the wrong decision in allowing Steve's father to go in alone. He also realized Mark and Steve were so much alike that he'd have had to resort to restraining the older man and locking him in a cell. Even then there'd be one hell of a fight. The van sped along the street, stopping only when there was traffic or pedestrians blocking their way.

"Where are they?" Newman asked the officer in charge of the device.

"The old apartments on the lower west side," Jake Mallory answered. "It looks like the one that was scheduled for demolition eight months ago."

"Have the cars move in, but tell them no sirens and don't make a move until we get there!" Newman ordered, holding the dash as the driver turned right onto the west bound street. He could hear his orders being relayed to the other squad cars and knew the officers under his command understood how important it was to approach the area cautiously.

Newman left several officers with Amanda Bentley and Jesse Travis and hoped the duo didn't turn out to be as cunning and stubborn as the Sloans. Connie Evans had also been left at the beach house and he knew she would talk some sense into Mark's co-workers, but even then there was no guarantee they would listen. "How much further?" he snapped.

"It should be coming up on our right, Captain," Douglas Townsend explained. He'd been under Newman's command for several years and understood the man cared about his people. The captain was a good man and backed up his officers more than most higher ups did.

"Good, just don't get too damn close because we can't afford to let them know we're onto them," Newman ordered.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark could hear their captives in the other room, but his gaze remained locked on his son's body, willing him to take each breath in spite of the torment he saw in the strong features. There were several wounds that would need stitches, but it was the possibility of internal injuries that had him worried. Steve had been silent since Mark had told him help was on the way and Mark took the time to study his face.

Tiny beads of sweat had formed on his forehead and ran down toward the floor, and Mark knew the signs of fever.

"Dad…should…shouldn't have come," Steve managed through tightly clenched teeth.

Mark worked his legs until he managed to get closer to Steve and smiled in spite of the dire situation they were in. "What else could I do, Son…they held all the cards…they had you," Mark told him.

"I'm a c…cop…used to…to dealing with people l…like Damian…"

"Have you forgotten that I've helped you in some of your investigations?" Mark asked, pleased that his son seemed alert enough to know what was happening around him.

"Dangerous…"

"Yes, it is, but this time the danger came from me and not from anything you did, Steve," Mark managed to maneuver his body so that Steve's head rested on his legs.

"Not…not your fault…"

"Well now isn't this a cozy picture?" Damian asked upon entering the room and finding Mark Sloan doing his best to protect his son. He grinned, showing uneven, broken teeth as he stepped forward and bent at the waist to look the older captive in the eyes. "This is because of you, Dr. Sloan…you let Brian die and now you will watch your son die…slowly."

"Don't…" Mark tried, but Steve was torn from his arms and dragged into the other room. He silently cursed as the gang leader signaled for him to stand.

"Now Dr. Sloan, why don't we join Steve and Tati in the family room so you can have a front row seat?" Damian asked snidely. He grabbed Mark's arm and shoved him toward the open door in time to see Steve's arms secured to two rings hanging from an overhead beam.

"Oh, Damian, are we going to kill them now?"

"Not yet, Tati, I'm sure Dr. Sloan wants us to keep the lieutenant alive as long as we can, but that don't mean we can't enjoy ourselves," Damian said, forcing Mark to his knees as Tatiana walked over to the table and picked up a thin bladed knife. "Tati's skill with a knife could probably put yours to shame, Dr. Sloan…"

"Shall I make an incision, Dr. Sloan?" Tatiana asked, her dark rimmed eyes were swollen, giving her a sinister look as she sauntered over to Steve and began to circle him. She licked her lips anticipatorily at the thought of making the pig squeal.

"Tati, not too big…remember we want this to last. I'm sure Brian would appreciate Lieutenant Sloan's suffering," Damian observed, watching the older captive closely as Tatiana slid the blade along the cop's right bicep.

"God," Mark whispered and wished Newman and the others would get there. He hadn't noticed the man standing at the broken window, but his words sent hope blazing through his mind.

"We got company, Damian," Tito snapped.

"Who?" Damian asked angrily.

"Looks like the doc brought the cops with him!" Tito answered.

Damian grabbed the knife from Tatiana and stood in front of Mark Sloan. He held the knife against his neck and cursed the older man for being so stupid. He heard Steve Sloan's mocking laughter and anger swelled inside as he drove the blade into Mark's left shoulder and quickly pulled it out, smiling as blood spilled from the wound. He could easily kill them both and be done with it, but he wanted Mark Sloan to see his son suffer and until that happened he would allow them to live…for now. "You may think you've won, Dr. Sloan, but this is simply the intermission. Tati, come with me…the rest of you make sure the cops don't follow us."

"Aren't we gonna kill them, Damian?" Tatiana asked petulantly.

"Not yet, Tati…I want Sloan to watch his son die slowly," Damian said and led her toward the lone stairway that would lead to an underground escape route they'd devised when first taking refuge in the apartment building. The others would make sure the escape route was unusable once they followed him and Tatiana out.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Walter Newman signaled for his men to enter the building. He'd gone over the plan with them and trusted each man to their assigned job. Several officers would enter the building through the openings at the back and windows at both sides. It didn't surprise him when a car pulled in behind his squad car and Jesse Travis, Amanda Bentley, and Connie Evans exited and hurried to join him.

"Has there been any word?" Amanda asked.

"We were just about to move in, but I know damn well I told you three to stay at the beach house!" Newman snapped.

"We couldn't just sit back…"

"Yes, you could have, Dr. Travis." Newman warned and signaled for two officers to join him. "Make sure these three stay put!" the captain ordered and moved stealthily toward the building.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Once Damian and Tatiana made their escape, Mark watched the remaining gang members and wondered why they were so loyal to Damian Ryan. The young leader had a strange ability to make the others do his bidding and that was something Mark could admire, if it wasn't for the way Ryan used it.

Mark shifted and tried to climb to his feet, but the pain in his shoulder made him nauseas and he could see the blood spreading across his shirt.

"Going somewhere, Dr. Sloan?" Tito asked angrily.

"No, but I think you and your friends should leave now or you'll be the ones taking the fall for kidnapping and attempted murder of a police officer!" Mark snapped.

"Oh, don't worry…we're leaving, but we need to give Damian and Tati time to get away before we blow the escape route…"

"If you blow the escape route how are you going to get away?" Mark asked, watching his son closely as he slumped in the chains binding him to the overhead beam. Steve's face was a colorful array of bruises, but the skin underneath had a washed out translucency that spoke of impending death. Mark would not let that happen, not without doing everything in his power to save his son's life.

"Are you worried about us, Dr. Sloan?" Tito asked and looked at his watch, stolen from an elderly man just before he'd slit the guys throat and left him in a pool of his own blood. "Don't be…it's time we got the hell out of here…I'm sure we'll be seeing you real soon."

Mark watched the gang members leave and ignored the pain and nausea as he managed to get his feet under him and staggered to his injured son. "Steve," he whispered as the sound of gunshots reached his ears.

"Dad…you're hurt," Steve mumbled, worry evident in his voice.

"I'm okay, Son, looks like help is here so just hold on a little longer," Mark warned, silently cursing his inability to help his son.

"Trying…Dad," Steve told him as the gunfire continued outside the room. Mark looked up as Tito returned, blood spilling from a wound in his right thigh as he staggered toward them.

"I'll kill you, Cop!" Tito ground out, gun aimed at the captive as anger distorted his face.

Mark acted on instinct and dove at the younger man's legs, taking them both to the floor in an effort to save Steve's life. He heard shouts from outside, but could not allow Tito to use his gun. With his hands tied as they were, Mark did the only thing he could think of. He bit down hard on Tito's finger and felt a modicum of relief when the gun clatter to the floor, but the gang member wasn't ready to give up and dove for the weapon.

"Don't!"

Mark heard the command, recognized the voice and sighed heavily as he moved away from Tito and allowed Newman's men to grab him. Mark returned to his son, worried at the haggard sound of his breathing and soon felt someone release his hands. He felt like he was seeing things in slow motion as Newman and another officer gently removed the cuffs from Steve's hands and lowered him to the floor.

"You're bleeding, Dr. Sloan," Newman called, but for Mark the sound seemed far away.

"Steve needs help," Mark spoke softly and used his left hand to touch his son's forehead.

"Get Dr. Travis and Dr. Bentley in here!" Newman ordered, and listened as an officer relayed his call through the radio.

"Ambulance," Mark whispered.

"On the way," the captain assured him. "Dr. Sloan, do you know where Damian went?"

"They left…him and Tatiana had some kind of escape route through the stairway…something about underground…Tito was supposed to blow it," Mark answered. He could not take his eyes off Steve's face, could not remove his hand as he silently prayed Steve was strong enough to fight through the injuries he'd received. Mark heard the sound of rushing footsteps and looked up as Jesse and Amanda knelt beside his son. "He might have internal injuries," the older man managed.

"Mark, I need to take a look at you…"

"I'm okay, Amanda," Mark managed.

"No, you're not, Mark, you're bleeding…"

"Steve needs…"

"Steve needs you to be strong for him…look at me, Mark," Amanda ordered softly, watching her colleague's face as it paled even further.

"Amanda…my fault…"

Amanda Bentley recognized the signs of sock in the older man and wished she could ease his fears, but she knew Steve Sloan was in bad shape and nothing she could say or do would take the torment from Mark Sloan. She heard the sound of the ambulance in the distance and was grateful when an officer brought two first aid kits, handing one to her and one to Jesse. She quickly removed a pressure bandage and tore Mark's shirt in order to get a better look at the wound. The blood loss had her worried, but until the paramedics arrived and started an IV there was nothing more she could do.

"Amanda, I need your help," Jesse told her once she finished with Mark's shoulder wound.

"Mark?" Amanda called to her friend.

"Help Steve," Mark whispered, fighting the darkness that seemed to be closing in on him. He heard Amanda and Jesse working on Steve, but kept his eyes locked on his son's face. Steve was still breathing, of that he was sure, but it seemed as if he was having trouble drawing air into his lungs.

"Mark, why don't you lie down?" Amanda ordered when someone found a blanket and formed it into a pillow. She saw her colleague shake his head and sighed deeply knowing it was pointless to even try. Steve was in rough shape and she knew they had to get him to Community General ASAP and was relieved when the police escorted the paramedics inside. She left Jesse and one newcomer to Steve before turning her attention to Mark with the help of the second paramedic.

"Dr. Sloan, we need to take a look at you and start an IV," Jack Bradley stated, glad to have Amanda Bentley's help.

"Work around him, Jack," Amanda said, knowing Mark's hold on consciousness was tenuous at best. The paramedic started an IV in the elder Sloan's left arm, but the only reaction was a slight hint of a grimace as he taped the catheter in place. It wasn't long before they had Mark ready for transport, but Amanda realized he wouldn't budge until Jesse and Donald Tyler finished with Steve.

"Jesse, how is he?" Mark asked softly.

"You know Steve, Mark, he's strong and he's fighting. We're going to put him on a backboard and then we'll be ready to transport," Jesse explained as they immobilized the patient's right leg. They had two IVs started and were running the solution into the patient in hopes of bringing up his blood pressure.

Mark watched as they completed their tasks and Steve was log rolled onto the backboard before being transferred to a stretcher. Travis and Tyler hurried out of the room, leaving Bentley and Bradley to deal with Mark Sloan. Mark soon found himself lying on a stretcher and strapped down, but that was the last thing he felt as exhaustion, pain, and worry combined and consciousness left him.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Jesse helped push the stretcher into the trauma room where the portable equipment was removed and the hospital monitors put in place. He started giving orders to the nurses and blood samples were soon taken as he continued the examination he'd started back at the abandoned apartments. He shone the light in Steve's eyes, only slightly surprised when Steve looked up at him and tried to form coherent words.

"Jesse…okay…"

"Easy, Steve, you're at Community General and you're going to be fine, but I need you to relax and let us do what we have to do," Jesse explained as a nurse set up the oxygen mask he'd ordered.

"No…not yet…Dad…Dad okay?" Steve asked, fighting against the pain and nausea running rampant through his body.

"Mark's fine, Steve…Amanda's taking care of him," Jesse assured his friend.

"Dr. Travis, portable x-ray is on the way," Paula Shaffer explained.

"Good…I want a full series and an abdominal ultrasound," Jesse told her. "Who's the vascular surgeon on call?"

"Daniel Coburn," Paula answered.

"Have him paged," Jesse said and wasn't surprised to find the staff had cut the remainder of Steve's clothing from his body, silently cursing at the damage that could be seen by the naked eye and wondering what they would find underneath.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark's return to consciousness was not a pleasant one as they pushed his stretcher through the main doors and into the ER. HE turned his head as Amanda placed her hand on his right shoulder. "Check on Steve," he ordered softly.

"I will," Amanda said, but the sound of alarms had them both turning to see several members of the trauma team enter trauma one.

"No…Steve!" Mark cried and tried to come off the bed, his heart beating a staccato rhythm in his chest at the thought of losing his son.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 6

Amanda hurried to the trauma room and pushed open the door. There were several nurses working with Jesse Travis and she knew things did not look good as Travis called for the crash cart. Bentley stayed out of the way as the trauma team continued to work on the injured man.

Jesse didn't look up as the door opened; his body rigid as he fought to save his friend's life. He knew Mark Sloan was in the next room, but there was no time to fill him in on what was happening with his son. The team worked together like well oiled machinery as he gripped the paddles and ordered. "Clear!"

Amanda watched as Jesse positioned the paddles and shocked Steve's body. She glanced at the monitors, but there was still no sign of life as Jesse repeated the procedure. She heard him call for epinephrine, and moved out of the way as Daniel Coburn entered the room. She knew Steve was in good hands and exited the room, shaking her head when she saw a shaky Mark Sloan fighting to get away from one of the nurses.

"Mark, listen to me," Bentley ordered softly, waiting for the older man to meet her gaze.

"Amanda…what's going o…on?" Sloan stammered.

"Jesse and Dr. Coburn are with him now…they're doing everything they can," Bentley explained and was surprised when her friend allowed her to maneuver him back into his room. She helped him sit on the bed and finally lie back while the nurse worked to reestablish the IV line he'd managed to pull out.

"Amanda…"

"Easy, Mark, look I know you're worried about Steve, but you're not doing him any good by neglecting your own injuries. Now you're suffering from a concussion and you've lost a lot of blood and we need to take care of you," Bentley told him and looked into his eyes before saying something she knew would get through to him. "Steve will need you when they've finished treating him…he'll need to know you're there."

"What have I done, Amanda?"

"You did nothing, Mark," Bentley said as Jason Murray entered the room. The young resident took one look at his patient and swallowed convulsively before regaining his composure and moving to the bed.

"Dr. Sloan, please tell me you're as bad a patient as your son when he's here?" Murray asked.

"See, Mark, even the new staff knows about Steve's reputation," Amanda said with a hint of a smile. "Jason, he has a concussion and knife wound to the left shoulder."

"Thank you, Dr. Bentley," the resident said and slowly flashed a penlight in the patient's eyes. He heard a soft moan and winced sympathetically before continuing his examination. He was grateful Amanda Bentley stayed and offered not only moral support, but helped care for his patient. He turned his attention to the shoulder wound and removed the bandage. "This will need to be cleaned and stitched, Dr. Sloan."

"Do it and let me out of…"

"Mark, I don't think you'll be going anywhere except upstairs to a room," Bentley observed and was impressed as she watched the young resident work on her friend.

"Amanda…go check…"

"Dr. Sloan, I've just given you some morphine and I want you to relax and let it work," Murray explained, relieved when his patient's eyes closed.

"Amanda…please…"

"I'll check, Mark, but it could be some time before we know anything," Bentley told him, nodding to Murray before hurrying from the room. She knocked lightly on the trauma room door and opened it to find the nurse pushing the crash cart away from the bed. She glanced at the monitors, glad to see they'd managed to restart Steve's heart.

"Amanda, is Mark okay?" Jesse asked as he continued to work with Daniel Coburn.

"He has a concussion and lost a lot of blood, but he's not going to rest until he knows how Steve is doing," Bentley answered.

"Jesse, why don't you go speak to Mark while I finish up with this. Portable x-ray should be here any time," Coburn said as he finished securing the tube down the patient's throat.

"I'll be right back," Travis said and followed Amanda to Mark's room. The older man was fighting to stay awake as Jason Murray worked on the damage to his shoulder. Mark's eyes shot open as he heard them enter and he looked hopefully toward Travis.

"Jesse, how is Steve?" Sloan asked.

"Well, he's being as stubborn as you are and I thank God for that," Travis answered.

"What happened?" Mark asked.

"His heart stopped, but we were able to resuscitate and Daniel is with him right now. He's lost a lot of blood and we ave no idea about internal injuries yet. His right leg is broken, but there's also a knife wound to his inner thigh…"

"Go on," Mark ordered when Jesse took a deep breath and sank onto the chair next to his bed.

"He has several slashes across his abdomen and a wound to his right shoulder. We're going to clean the wounds on his back and have started him on a strong antibiotic cocktail. As soon as he's stable we'll be taking him to surgery and Dr. Meacham from orthopedics is going to take a look at the x-rays before deciding how to treat the break," Travis explained.

"What about internal injuries?" Sloan asked.

"We won't know until we get the films, Mark. Look, I know there's no point in telling you not to worry so I won't, but it won't do you or Steve any good if you don't let Jason take care of you," Jesse explained.

"You'll come tell me as soon as you know anything?"

"You know I will…but it's going to take some time, Mark, so try and get some sleep," Travis told him and patted his friend on the shoulder before standing and leaving the room.

"Okay, Dr. Sloan, you heard him," Murray offered and continued caring for his patient.

Mark felt his eyes close and sighed tired as the medication, physical injuries, blood loss, and emotional trauma combined to drag him under. His mind replayed the last few hours from the moment he'd found Steve to the alarm's he'd heard in the adjacent room. His son was alive, of that he was sure, but he also knew Steve was in for the fight of his life.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Connie Evans was not an overly religious woman, but that did not mean she didn't believe in prayer when everything else seemed hopeless. She knew Steve Sloan was in the best hands, but prayers never hurt anyone. She made her way toward the small undenominational chapel and stepped inside; glad it was unoccupied as she made her way to the front pew. She sat down, running her fingers through her hair as tears slipped from her eyes.

How many times had she thought about the dangers Steve Sloan faced every day? How man times had she jumped when the phone rang and she expected the worst? How many times had she touched a new bruise or mark left on his body by some criminal who thought they could take what they wanted instead of working for it like every one else did?

"_Too many,'_ she thought and looked at the cross hanging on the wall before speaking softly. "I know I probably don't have the right to be here, and I might be very selfish, but there's a man fighting for his life and I don't want him to lose that fight. There are not enough people like Steve Sloan, Lord, and we need him here to help keep the 'monsters' of the world off the streets. My mother was a very religious woman and I am sorry I didn't understand everything she tried to teach me, but I do know You have a reason for everything You do. I promise I'll do my best to attend church…I wish I knew You were listening…"

"God is always listening, Child," an aged voice from behind her said.

"I'm sorry…I didn't hear you come in," Evans told the elderly woman dressed in a volunteer's uniform.

"I should be the one apologizing for interrupting you…my name is Shirley Roark and I hope you don't mind me being here."

"I…no, I don't mind."

"I just came in to say a prayer for an old friend and his son…"

"Mark and Steve Sloan," Evans whispered softly.

"That's right…are you here for the same reason?"

"Yes, I am. I've been seeing Steve for a while now and have worked with him on occasion…he shouldn't be here," Connie told her.

"Neither one of them should," Roark said. "Would you mind if I said a prayer with you?"

"I would like that," Evans said and bowed her head as the woman began to speak. Her voice and her words reminded Connie of her mother and she felt a sense of peace as she listened to Shirley Roark.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Even at a young age, when most boys were playing soccer or baseball, Damian Ryan had always been a man of action. He'd tried different sports, but had never found one that challenged him enough to make it worth the effort. Since that first kill at the age of thirteen, Damian had taken pleasure in torturing and killing his victims. Leaving Mark and Steve Sloan alive was dangerous, but the older man had killed a friend…a brother and deserved to suffer for it. The son would pay for the sins of the father and Damian smiled at the thought of finishing what he'd started.

"Damian, I'm hungry…"

"Don't whine, Tati…you know I hate that," Ryan warned and grabbed her chin, shoving her through the partially open doorway. The small house just north of community general had belonged to Tatiana's uncle, but was unlived in for several years. Her uncle had died when he'd attempted to rob a liquor store and been shot by the owner, Carl Renkin. Renkin had met his own death a week later when a bullet was fired through the open doorway. Damian believed in an eye for an eye, especially when it came to his 'family'.

"How long do we have to stay here?" Tatiana asked, pouting as she rubbed the cobwebs from her arms.

"As long as it takes…we'll finish the Sloans and then leave the city permanently."

"What about the others?"

"If they escape and live they can come with us otherwise we just start all over again…maybe somewhere like New York," Damian told her. He knew they'd need to get food while they worked out a plan, but right now the streets were probably crawling with police and that meant they had to lie low. "Come on, Tati, I'm hungry, but not for food…"

Tatiana smiled at him as he took her hand and led her into the one room that still held furniture. There was an old wrought iron bed against one wall, a battered, but still usable six drawer dresser, and several hangers in the single closet with the broken door. On the top shelf were several thin blankets, placed there during their last stay. Tatiana reached up and grabbed a blanket, shaking it vigorously before covering the musty mattress with it.

"Some day, Tati, you'll have everything you've ever wanted and you'll never have to live like this again," Damian vowed. It was something he wanted for the pretty young woman who warmed his bed. It didn't matter how he got the things he wanted for her, just that he got them and proved to her that he did love her in his own selfish way.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Jesse Travis knew the meaning of exhaustion, and he knew he'd gone past that as he removed his surgical garb and rubbed at tired eyes. Steve Sloan was alive and being settled in the SICU where his condition would be monitored closely. Coburn and Meacham had done their jobs and Steve was stable, but listed in critical condition. He knew he needed to go see Mark and Amanda, but he wished he had better news to give them.

Donning clean clothes, Jesse left the surgical floor and made his way to his office and found out what room Mark Sloan was in. Taking a deep breath he made his way to the second floor and easily found room 224. He pushed the door open slightly and nodded to Amanda as he entered. "How is he?"

"He's sleeping," Bentley answered.

"Maybe we should let him sleep," Travis suggested.

"You know he'd be angry if you don't wake him, Jesse, he needs to know about Steve," Amanda explained and eyed the pale form on the bed. The nurse had come in earlier and started a bag of antibiotics because of the possibility of infection from the knife wound.

"I know…I just wish I had better news…"

"Jesse…what's wr….wrong?"

"We thought you were sleeping, Mark," Travis said and joined Amanda at his bedside.

"I was…what hap…happened with Steve? Is he all right?" Mark asked tiredly, pressing the button on the side of his bed until he was able to look at his visitors without having to strain his neck.

"Mark, Steve's being settled in SICU. There were internal injuries including damage to his spleen…"

"Did you have to remove it?" Sloan asked.

"Yes, and he's been given the Pneumovax," Jesse explained of the shot given to patient's whose spleen was removed. "We're keeping him heavily sedated and on a ventilator…"

"How long?" Mark asked.

"24 to 48 hours depending on his progress. Steve is also running a fever and we've added a cooling blanket," Travis told him.

"I want…I need to see him, Jesse," the older man whispered softly, but there was no denying the truth of his words.

"I know, Mark, and I'm not going to fight you on this, but you'll go in a wheelchair and you'll only stay for a few minutes," Jesse warned.

"I…"

"Mark, I'm not going to argue with you about this. Like I said Steve is heavily sedated and you're in no shape to be holding vigil. I'll take you to him and then you're back here and resting or I'll sedate you too!"

"Jesse, I'm impressed," Bentley said when she noticed that Mark Sloan was quiet for a long time before he nodded in agreement.

"I learned from the best," Travis said. "I'll be back with the wheelchair in two minutes…you stay put until I come back," Travis ordered and hurried from the room.

Amanda watched Mark's face as his eyes closed and knew he was fighting to keep the pain from showing. "Mark, I'm going to buzz the nurse's desk and have them bring you something for pain before we go visit Steve."

"Thank you, Amanda," the elderly man said. He knew she was right and had already decided there was no point in being in pain when there was something he could take to make him more comfortable. He heard Bentley speaking with the nurse and opened his eyes when he felt her fiddling with his IV line.

"That should help, Dr. Sloan," Carol Winslow said. She wanted to know about Steve's condition, but did not want to say anything to upset the injured man. She left the room and silently prayed that both Sloan men would make a complete recovery.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark Sloan sat in the wheelchair and smiled weakly as Amanda covered him with a warmed blanket. Jesse hung the IV on the pole attached to the chair and took control of the handles. Sloan closed his eyes as a wave of nausea washed over him, but opened them again as the chair was pushed out of the room. He said hello to several members of the nursing staff, but his heart just wasn't in it. He needed to see Steve, needed to touch him, needed to know that he was alive.

"Mark, are you all right?" Amanda asked, watching as the older man's face paled considerably.

"No, Amanda, but I will be as soon as I know Steve is okay," the physician answered, relieved when Jesse pulled to a stop outside the SICU.

"Mark, I'm going to check with Steve's nurse and make sure he's ready for visitors," Jesse explained and pushed open the closed door. "Tanya, Mark is here…can he come in for a few minutes?"

"Of course, Dr. Travis," Tanya Squires said as she finished checking the input/output of her patient.

"All right, Mark," Travis said, taking control of the wheelchair and pushing it through the door Amanda Bentley held open.

Mark was used to the equipment used in the SICU, but it still didn't prepare him for the shock of seeing his son surrounded by what appeared to be every piece of high tech medical machinery Community General had to offer. The beeps and clicks sang to him in a steady rhythm that eased some of his fears, but when he looked at Steve's bruised face, his heart seemed to skip a beat. "My God, Steve," he whispered and reached over the bedrail to gently touch the unconscious man's forehead. He felt his hands shaking as he took in every mark of that showed above the blanket.

"Mark," Bentley said and placed her hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Steve is strong and I know it may not seem like it right now, but he's going to beat this."

"I hope so, Amanda…I just hate seeing him like this. He's always been so alive…always full of energy," Mark said and fought the tears that threatened to flow.

"I know…and he'll be out of here and arguing with you about how long you're keeping him in here," the woman explained.

"Mark, I think it's time to get you back to your room," Travis said and reached for the handles of the chair.

"Just a few minutes, Jesse…"

"No, you're a patient here too and Steve would kill me if I let you stay at his side when you belong in bed. Amanda, I'll take Mark back," Travis offered.

"All right, Jesse," Bentley agreed. "Connie Evans is waiting outside and I'm going to tell her she can see him for a few minutes."

Mark looked at the pretty woman standing to the right of Steve's door and reached out to take her hand as she stepped toward him. "Connie, talk to him…let him know he's not alone."

"I will, Dr. Sloan," Evans said, reaching out and gently hugging the older man. She stood up and entered the room, silently watching as the machines worked to keep Steve Sloan alive.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 7

Mark Sloan fought the effects of the heavy drugs he'd been given and forced heavy lids to open. The room was dark, with just the lights on the IV monitor to illuminate the edge of his bed. He lifted his right arm, careful not to dislodge the IV and rubbed at his head. He remembered someone telling him he had a concussion, and was glad the blurred vision seemed to have subsided.

Mark reached up and turned on the light, clamping his eyes shut when the too bright orb sent daggers of pain through his skull. He knew he should turn out the light and close his eyes, but he needed to know how his son was doing. Sloan used his right hand to find the controls for the bed and pressed the one that would raise his upper body.

Mark ignored the pain as he managed to lower the rail and slide his legs over the edge until his feet touched the floor. He grabbed for the small cabinet next to the bed as a wave of dizziness threatened to send him to his knees. He swayed, but managed to stay upright and eased his feet into the slippers that had been placed beside his bed. As a doctor he knew what he was doing was foolhardy, but as a father he needed to find out about his son. He had to see for himself that Steve was still alive and fighting to survive.

Mark closed his eyes against the sudden vision of Steve dying in his arms and although he knew it wasn't true he needed to get to the SICU. He looked around for something he could wrap around his body, his eyes lighting on an extra gown lying over the back of a chair. He picked it up and tried to put it on, frustrated because of the immobilized shoulder and the IV in the opposite arm. He dropped the gown and reached for the IV, jumping guiltily when a voice sounded from the doorway.

"Dr. Sloan, what do you think you're doing?" Anna Downey snapped when she noted her patient's hand was pulling at the tape that secured his IV.

"I…uh…I was having trouble…"

"Trouble is my middle name, Dr. Sloan. I'm under orders to do what's necessary to see that you don't neglect your health and I will use the medications Dr. Travis prescribed if you force me too. I believe you've known me long enough to know I don't make idle threats even when the patient is one of our own distinguished physicians."

"Anna, I…" Mark smiled weakly as the robust woman placed her hand on her hips and stared him down. There weren't many people who could pull the look off, but Anna Downey was one of them and he sat back on the bed. It didn't surprise him when she sat down next to him and placed her arms around his shoulders.

"I know you're worried about Steve, Mark, but ignoring your own health is not going to help him. He's still heavily sedated and won't even know you're there…"

"But I will," Mark told her dejectedly. "It's my fault he's in here…"

"That's not what I heard," Downey said sympathetically. "I heard you did everything possible to save that boy's life and it was his friends that decided to take it out on you and Steve. Don't take the blame when it's not yours to shoulder, Mark, because God only knows we all do it often enough as it is. Steve is a fighter and he comes from good stock…"

"I can't lose him too," Sloan whispered.

"You won't, Mark, just have faith in him and you'll both be badgering the staff to let you out of here," Downey said with a hint of a smile. "Now why don't you lie back and I'll bring your medications?"

"After I see Steve…"

"Mark…"

"Please, Anna, just for a few minutes."

Anna Downey had never heard such misery in his voice and could not resist the moisture filled eyes that stared at her. She knew this man would not rest until he was sure his son was still with him. She'd seen his grief when his daughter died and understood how much Steve Sloan meant to him…he was Mark's only surviving child and that alone was a heavy cross to bear. She knew she'd lost the battle before it had even begun and sighed heavily. "I'll have an orderly bring a wheelchair…"

"Thank you…"

"Let me finish, Dr. Sloan," Anna said, deliberately using the more formal title as she stood and placed her hands on her ample hips once more. "The orderly will take you to see Steve and will return you in fifteen minutes or I'll come find you with a nice dull needle and poke you where the sun doesn't shine."

Mark Sloan couldn't stop the smile from forming and yet he knew Anna Downey was deadly serious. He'd seen her do it before…to his own son when Steve had tried to escape without Mark's or Jesse's discharge orders.

"Are we clear, Dr. Sloan?"

"We're clear, Anna," Mark said, wincing when she helped him into the second gown.

"You stay there and I'll be right back with the wheelchair," Downey told him.

Mark sat where he was, fighting hard to ignore the pain in his shoulder. He knew he should take the pain medication, but right now it would put him down for the count and he could not allow that to happen. Anna and the orderly entered the room and helped him into the chair.

"Fifteen minutes, Harold, and then you bring him back here for my TLC," Anna said as she covered Mark Sloan's legs with a warmed blanket.

"I'll bring him back, Anna," Harold Stoddard agreed and wheeled the chair from the room.

Mark hadn't realized how late it was until they entered the hallway and he noticed the lights were turned down indicating visiting hours were long gone. "What time is it?"

"4:13," Harold answered before pushing the button and summoning the elevator.

Mark knew he should know what day it was, but injuries and medications made it hard to think clearly and he ran his left hand over his face tiredly. He leaned back as the doors opened and the orderly took control, pushing him inside and pressing the button for the appropriate floor. It wasn't long before he was inside the SICU where his son, his strong, tall son, was lying amidst a jumble of machinery that dwarfed him.

"I'll be back in ten minutes, Dr. Sloan," Harold said, not really expecting an answer as the older man seemed intent on his son. He nodded to the nurse who moved away from the bed to give father and son some time together.

"Steve," Mark said, choking on the familiar name even as he reached out to take his son's hand in his own. "I've always known your job was dangerous and that someday I might have to face your…your death, but not like this. You go out on the streets every damn day and you do everything you can to make them safe...I wish…I wish I could turn back the clock and turned the Johnson boy over to someone else…"

"Dr. Sloan would you like some water or juice?"

"No, thank you Pamela," Mark answered and continued to look at his son, taking in every bruise and laceration and bandage that covered his body. "I know you don't blame me, Son, but I blame myself…did I do everything I could for Brian Johnson? Could I have done more?"

"Dr. Sloan?"

"Yes, Pamela."

"I haven't been here very long, but I've seen you work and cared for the patients you've saved. I know you did everything you could for the Johnson boy and I know when your son wakes up he'll tell you the same thing," Pamela Walker observed.

"Thank you, Pamela…sometimes I wonder," Sloan said simply and returned his attention to the still form on the bed. "Steve, I'm here, Son…we'll get through this together…"

"Now how did I know I'd find you here?"

"Hi, Jesse…I needed to see him," Mark answered simply.

"I understand, Mark, but neglecting your own health won't help him," Travis told him.

"I know…I'm ready to go back now, but…how is he, Jesse?"

"He's better than we thought at this point, Mark, but his fever is still dangerously high. Daniel wants to keep him sedated for another twelve hours and then we're going to ease up on the medications and see how he's doing…"

"I want to be here."

"I know and you will be as long as you get the rest you need. Come on…I'll take you back to your room," Travis offered.

"I'll be back, Steve," Mark whispered and squeezed his son's hand before reluctantly releasing him and allowing Jesse to wheel him out of the room. He remained silent through the trip back to his room and was grateful when the younger man helped him into bed. A soft moan escaped when he lay back on the pillows and he knew he'd waited too long.

"Mark, Anna is going to give you a shot…are you nauseas?"

"My stomach is doing flip flops," Sloan answered honestly.

"She'll also give you something to help settle that," Travis said nodding to the nurse who hurried to get the required medications. "You know this is probably going to knock you out so don't fight it and just maybe the kitchen will send you up something for breakfast."

"The usual?"

"Of course…just because you work here doesn't mean you get special treatment. Rest, Mark, Steve's doing okay…"

"You'll come get me if he…if anything changes?"

"You know I will," Travis said as the nurse returned and injected the ordered medications into his IV line. He heard a heavy sigh from his friend and placed a gentle hand on his left arm before speaking softly. "Try not to worry, Mark."

"Dr. Travis how is Steve Sloan?" Anna asked once they turned out the light and left the room.

"He's critical, Anna, but Steve has always been a fighter and I know he's going to beat this," Travis told her and hoped he was right as he made his way to the ER to start his shift.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Tatiana had learned when to stay away from Damian and she cowered in the corner of the bedroom as he paced back and forth in front of the boarded up window. Two days had passed since the cops had rescued the Sloans and none of their friends had shown up at the house. Tatiana understood what that meant and could see the anger as if it was a neon sign around Damian's neck. The newspapers they'd stolen from in front of the house on the next street spoke of the daring rescue and the deaths of several members of El Diablo.

Damian strode toward her, grabbing her arms and pulling her to her feet. His anger had always manifested itself in dark and dangerous ways and he pressed his body against hers, pinning her against the wall as he captured her mouth in a bruising imitation of a kiss. He ground his hips against hers and heard her gasp, and knew she enjoyed it rough as he pulled her into his arms and dropped her on the makeshift bed they shared.

"It's just you and me now Tati, but that's enough for what we have to do," Damian said and stretched out beside her.

"What are we going to do, Damian?"

"We're going to kill the Sloans and then we're going to leave this shit hole of a town behind us…"

"We'll need money…"

"We'll rob a liquor store…grab some good stuff while we're at it. We'll have us a real good party with the Sloans before we leave," Damian told her.

"They deserve to die," Tatiana said, knowing that was exactly what her lover wanted to hear. He nuzzled her neck and she could feel his hot breath against her skin. The anger that had spurred him to strike her earlier was gone and her fears receded as his touch made her feel special.

"I need you, Tati," Damian whispered.

"I love you, Damian…I need you," she assured him and folded her body against his as the lights across the street went off.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 8

Amanda Bentley stepped into the SICU and looked at the man she considered a close friend. Steve Sloan had saved her life on several occasions and that was something she would never forget. She looked at the monitors, noting the readings and wishing she could give his father better news. Mark had been confined to his bed because his fever had risen during the night and he was still weak from blood loss and worry.

Amanda reached out and gently touched his shoulder, closing her eyes and saying a silent prayer before turning away and leaving him in the care of his nurse. She made her way toward Mark's room, easing the door open in case he was sleeping, but it didn't surprise her to find him sitting up in his bed and staring out the window. He turned and looked at her with eyes so full of sorrow it took her breath away.

"Amanda…did you see him?"

"I did, Mark," Bentley answered and sat on the edge of his bed. She could feel the heat emanating from him and wondered how high his fever had gotten. "Nothing's changed…he's still fighting and we both know how strong he is…"

"But is that enough?" Mark asked softly, eyes misting with sorrow as he returned his attention to whatever he found so interesting outside the window.

Amanda knew the fever and pain were draining her friend, but she also realized he blamed himself for what happened to Steve. The guilt was written on his pale face and she reached out and placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Mark, Steve is going to be all right…you both are."

"I'm fine, Amanda…"

"No, you're not, but you will be. I know you blame yourself for what happened, but right now you can't afford that guilt and neither can Steve. He needs you to be strong for him…he needs you to be there for him when he wakes up," Bentley explained, hoping she could get through to the older man.

Mark knew she was right, but it didn't make it any easier. Steve was fighting for his life in the SICU while his attackers were walking around free. Newman had been in to report that Damian Ryan and Tatiana were unaccounted for and that the police had an APB out on them. Mark understood the police were doing everything they could, but he also knew he had not seen the last of Damian and Tatiana. They were a threat to Steve, a very real, sadistic threat that he would have to do something about when the time came. He thought about his son's injuries and for the first time in his life realized he could sink to their level if and when the time came.

"Mark, I have to go…will you be all right?"

"I'll be fine, Amanda. I'm just going to sleep for a while and then go see Steve," Mark told her and closed his eyes.

Amanda knew there was nothing more she could do for her friend and reluctantly turned away. She walked to the door, turned one more time and her heart sank at the look of despair she saw on his face. She wanted to go back to him, but until Steve was awake and on the mend, Mark Sloan would not accept anyone's help. She pushed open the door and exited into the hallway where nurses were already busy bringing medications to their patients.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

The darkness began to recede, but with the advancing light came the awareness of pain, excruciating pain that told him he should have stayed in the darkness. He felt something running down the back of his throat and gasped for air as a hand touched against his arm.

"Steve, you're okay. You're in the hospital, but you're going to be all right…"

The voice was familiar, but it didn't quite bring him the relief it normally would have. The pain was worse now, but he forced his eyes open and sought the face that went with the voice. "Dad…where's D…Dad?"

"Easy, Steve, your father's okay. He's been worried about you…we all have," Jesse Travis told him. "Sandy, give him…"

Steve thought he heard Jesse order something for pain, but he didn't want it. Not yet, not until he saw for himself that his father really was okay. God, he hurt everywhere, but he couldn't remember how or why he'd been injured. "Need…need to see him, Jesse…" Was that really his voice? God, he sounded as bad as he felt.

"I know you do, Steve, and I'll get him, but you need to rest and you can't do that when you're in pain," Jesse warned as the nurse injected the ordered medications.

"So tired," Steve managed, his eyelids slowly closing as the strong pain medication sent him back to the darkness.

"Sandy, I'm going to see Mark, but if there's any change have me paged."

"I will, Dr. Travis," the nurse assured him before turning her attention to the collection containers and measuring her patient's output.

Jesse left the SICU and made his way to Mark Sloan's room and was not surprised to hear him arguing with the nurse. He entered the room to find an exasperated Anna Downey with her arms folded across her chest and staring at the man who was trying to crawl out of his bed. "Problems, Anna?"

"Not at all, Dr. Travis, I'm just waiting for Dr. Sloan to fall on his behind so I can explain to his doctor what a stubborn fool he is!" Downey explained.

"Jesse, help me…"

"No way, Mark, I've been a victim of Anna's anger before and I'm not about to make that same mistake again…not even for a friend. Now unless you want to be sedated and possibly put in restraints my advice would be for you to lie back and relax. I have good news…"

"Good news?" Sloan asked, settling back on the bed as he huffed out a breath of air. "Steve…tell me he's okay."

"He was awake for a couple of minutes, Mark," Travis said and watched as some of the fear left his friend's eyes. He wished he could erase that look, but knew it wouldn't happen until Steve was out of danger.

"Thank God," Mark said, fighting to keep from showing the emotions warring inside him. His son had been awake and that was a good sign, but Mark needed more. "Did he….does he know what happened?"

"I don't know, Mark, but he knew who I was and once I told him where he was he seemed to relax. I had the nurse give him something for pain and he's sleeping, but I think he needs to see you as much as you need to see him," Jesse explained.

"When?"

"As soon as you've eaten and got some sleep yourself. This is not up for negotiation, Mark, you're not well yourself and getting out of that bed on your own will just keep you tied down…just ask Anna," Travis answered with a conspiratorial smile at the nurse. "I'm sure I saw her checking your wrists for restraint sizes."

"Indeed I was, Dr. Travis, this is a case where that old saying does not pertain."

"What old saying?" Jesse asked.

"Physician heal thyself," Anna told him and smiled at both men. "I will see if they've sent up your tray, Dr. Sloan, and then I'll bring you your medication…"

"Jesse, make sure you hide the dull needles," Mark warned, a hint of relief in his voice.

"You wound me, Dr. Slaon, I'll have you know I'm a kind…caring…easy going…"

"Tyrant who wouldn't think twice about using her own supply," Sloan said.

"You know me too well," Anna said and hurried out of the room.

"Mark, when are you going to ask her out?" Travis asked seriously.

"What are you talking about, Jesse?"

"I've seen you two pussyfooting around each other and just keep wondering who is going to make the first move and when."

"Jesse, Anna and I have a professional relationship…"

"Professional my foot…look, Mark, I've seen the way you two look at each other without even realizing you're doing so. It wouldn't hurt for you both to admit having feelings…maybe enjoy a movie or dinner or…"

"Jesse," Sloan snapped as the door opened and Downey returned.

"Am I interrupting something?" the nurse asked.

"Yes," Jesse told her.

"No," Mark said at the same time.

"Men…you can't live with them and you can't shoot them," Downey said, placing the tray on the table and leaving the two men alone.

"Mark, you have got to ask her out," Jesse said with a grin.

"Maybe…later," Sloan said and lifted the lid from the tray. He looked at the clear fluids and reluctantly lifted the spoon and dipped it into the broth.

"Mark, I'll be back to take you to see Steve, but not until you've rested," Travis said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He left the older man to his meal and wondered how long it would be before Mark tried to get out of the bed and go to his son on his own. He spotted a familiar figure walking toward him and smiled at the pretty woman. "Hello, Connie…"

"Hi, Jesse…how are Steve and his father?"

"Mark is doing better, but he's worried about Steve. Steve woke up a little while ago and that's a good sign," Travis answered. "Did you see him today?"

"Not yet. I just came from there because the nurses were doing something for him and he wasn't up to having visitors yet so I thought I'd visit Dr. Sloan," Connie Evans told him.

"You might just be what he needs right now, Connie," Jesse said and watched her knock on Sloan's door.

**DMDMDMDMDM **

Mark looked up when the knock sounded and told whoever it was to come inside. He couldn't help but smile at the woman who stood in the doorway. She looked as if she hadn't slept and he knew that was probably closer to the truth than he realized as she moved to sit on the edge of his bed.

"Hello, Dr. Sloan, you look better," Evans said softly, fighting to keep her emotions in check.

"You're not a very good liar, Connie, but thanks for trying. How are you doing?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that question?" Evans said.

"I'm sore…but I've had worse," the physician told her. "Have you been up to see Steve?"

"I went up, but he wasn't ready for visitors. I want to thank you for having them make an exception in my case. I know it's supposed to be family only," Evans told him.

"You're welcome," Mark assured her, resting back against the pillows as he studied her face. She was beautiful in every sense of the word and he could understand the attraction between her and Steve and hoped they would have a future together. It was time for Steve to settle down. Time for him to give his father several grandchildren…a wistful look formed and he looked at Evans as she spoke.

"Are you all right, Dr. Sloan?"

"I'm fine, Connie…or I will be when I see my son," the physician said and pushed back the picked at tray. "Would you hand me that robe?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Sloan, but I don't think you're supposed to get out of bed on your own," Evans told him as the door opened as if on cue.

"Dr. Sloan, I have your medications here and oh, Excuse me I didn't know you had company," Downey said. "Would you excuse us for a few minutes, Miss…"

"Connie Evans…I'll be right back, Dr. Sloan."

"You can stay, Connie, don't let Attila run you off," Sloan snapped.

"Hmm, well, if you're okay with her seeing your other cheeks…"

"I'll be outside the door," Evans said and hurried from the room.

"Turn on your side, Dr. Sloan," Downey ordered.

"Just put it in the IV," Mark snapped.

"Not this one, Doctor, it is intramuscular," Downey said with a pleased grin.

"Did you miss the class on bedside manners?"

"Yep, I was off learning just the right techniques for recalcitrant patients such as yourself…besides bedside manners are over rated, and I took that page from you," Downey answered saucily and quickly delivered the shot.

"Ha ha," Sloan said and lay back as she covered him with the blankets.

"That's going to make you sleepy…so stay put and don't try to get out of that bed on your own. I'll check back with you in an hour or so and if you're up to it I'll take you up to see your son and maybe buy you a coffee."

"Thank you, Anna, I'd like that," Sloan said and felt himself drifting toward sleep. He heard her speaking to someone, but sleep beckoned to him and he gave into its call.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve slowly rose from the fog that had surrounded his mind and managed to open his eyes. The lights were bright and sent daggers through his skull and he couldn't stop the moan that escaped. The lights were turned down and he blinked several times until everything came into focus. He heard someone talking to him, reminding him where he was and why he was here, but his gaze shifted around the room until he found what he was looking for.

"Hello, Son, how do you feel?"

"Not sure…y…you okay?"

"I am now…you gave us quite the scare," Mark told him, reaching over the bed when the nurse dropped the rail and taking his son's hand in his own.

"Sorry…scared myself too…feel like hell," Steve said, unable to lie to this man.

"I'm sure you do…do you need something for pain?"

"No…not right now…knocks me out," the younger Sloan answered.

"I'm sure it does, but believe me without it you'd be in worse shape. Jesse was in earlier and if things continue to improve they'll be able to get rid of some of this stuff and move you in with me," Mark told him.

"Sounds good…what's the damage?"

"Let me see…broken leg…several stab wounds to your shoulder, but nothing permanent. Broken ribs…lacerations…bruises…"

"Was talking…talking about you," Steve said with a hint of a smile before awkwardly pointing at his father's shoulder.

"This is just a flesh wound," Mark answered and heard someone chuckling behind him. He turned to see Anna Downey standing there with her hands on her hips. He turned back to see his son's eyes closing and knew this was normal. It would be some time before Steve was awake for more than a couple of minutes at a time.

"Are you up for that coffee, Dr. Sloan?" Downey asked, grasping the handles of the wheelchair and wheeling him out of the room.

"Coffee sounds good right now," Mark told her as Connie Evans approached.

"How is he?"

"He's sleeping, Connie, but he was awake and he knew where he was. Go sit with him and talk to him when he wakes up," Mark said, relieved to be leaving his son in her capable hands. There was something about Connie Evans that set his mind at ease and again his mind wandered to what it would be like to have grandchildren.

"She seems nice," Downey observed once they entered the elevator and she pushed the button for the first floor.

"She is…are you sure you want to waste your break with me?"

"I wouldn't call it a waste, Dr. Sloan…I'd call it testing the waters," Anna said with a smile.

"Well, I'll try not to burn you,' Sloan said.

"Oh, are you saying you're too hot for an old gal like me to handle?"

"Not at all…now I'm wondering if I should be the one worrying about getting burned," Mark told her, relieved laughter escaped as they reached the first floor and made their way toward the cafeteria.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 9

Amanda stood outside Steve's room and couldn't help but smile as she listened to the pretty woman talking to the sleeping patient. Connie Evans' voice was filled with worry and fear as she reached over the rail and took Sloan's hand in her own. Bentley entered the room and placed a hand on Evans' shoulder. "He's strong, Connie."

"I know, Dr. Bentley, but he's hurt so much," Connie told her and suddenly felt Steve's fingers close around her own. "Steve?"

"Connie," Sloan managed and opened sleep drenched eyes. He tried to move, but there wasn't a part of him that didn't hurt and a soft moan escaped his throat.

"I'm here, Steve," Evans said, smiling as his eyes focused on her. She reached up and brushed back the sweat soaked hair and sighed tiredly. "How do you feel?"

"Feel like hell," the injured man replied and smiled as Amanda Bentley moved closer to the bed. "Amanda, how's my dad?"

"Mark's going to be fine as long as he does as his doctors tell him," Bentley answered.

"Dad's not one to be held down," Steve managed.

"I'd say that runs in the family," Jesse Travis said upon entering the tiny room.

"Steve, I'll come back later," Connie assured him when she realized the room was suddenly overcrowded and he needed to see his doctors more than he needed her. She squeezed his hand and felt his fingers tighten around hers before she released his hand and left the room.

"All right, Steve, when are you going to tell us about her?" Amanda teased as Jesse checked the patient's chart.

"What's to tell?" Sloan asked tiredly.

"Well, how did you meet? When did you start seeing each other? Why didn't you tell us about her?"

"I met her while work…ing on a case," Steve answered simply.

"So when did you start seeing her?" Amanda repeated, hoping to keep Steve's mind off his wounds.

"A week or so after we met," Sloan answered. "Didn't tell you guys about her because I know what you're like…"

"I'm offended…what about you, Jesse?" Bentley asked.

"Amanda, quit badgering my patient," Travis mock scolded and glanced at the monitors, relieved to see nothing had changed for the worse. "Steve, everything looks good…"

"Then I can go h…home?"

"I didn't say you were miraculously healed, Steve, but if things continue to improve we'll see about moving you in with Mark this afternoon," Travis explained. "How do you feel right now?"

"Head hurts," Sloan answered.

"Is that all?" Jesse asked amazed that the man was still awake.

"No, but I figure you know the answer better than me," the injured officer replied.

"Probably, but we like to hear it first hand from our patients," Travis said. "The nurse is going to give you a shot to help with the pain."

"Thanks, Jesse," Sloan said, sighing heavily as he sank back against the pillows.

"Steve, Captain Newman is waiting outside, but I told him I'd check with you before I let him in," the doctor explained.

"Let him come in," Steve told him.

"All right, but if you run into trouble I'm putting a stop to it," Travis warned before he signaled for the other man to come inside. "Captain, please keep it brief!"

"I'm just going to ask him a couple of questions," Newman assured the physician as he stepped up to the bed. "Lieutenant, I thought I told you to stop taking your work so seriously."

"Yes, Sir," Sloan said, shifting slightly as he tried to get comfortable.

"Easy, Steve, I know none of this was your fault," Newman said.

"Did you get them?"

"We got most of the gang, but Damian Ryan and Tatiana escaped…"

"Sonofa…" Steve spat, crying out as he tried to come off the bed.

"Steve, lie still…Captain, you'll have to leave!" Travis warned.

"No…Captain…they'll be coming after dad…can't…can't let them get to h…him!"

"We've got someone on your father's door, Steve," Newman assured him. "There'll also be a man assigned to you as well. Look, we need to get your statement, but it can wait until you feel stronger…"

"God," Steve groaned as pain slammed through his chest and back.

"Captain, you need to go!" Jesse ordered and this time he wasn't taking no for an answer. "Steve, I need you to calm down and concentrate on my voice. You're going to be fine, but I need you to lie still!"

"Jesse…dad…they'll come after him!"

"I know, Steve, but like Captain Newman said he's put men on both of you. They'll make sure no one gets close to either of you," Travis assured him as Amanda helped hold the injured man to the bed. "Steve…"

"Jesse, Sloan whispered and desperately grabbed for the other man's arm. "Where…where's dad?"

"He's in his room, Steve…"

"I need to see…see him."

"Amanda, would you go see if Mark's up to a visit?"

"I'll be right back," Bentley agreed and hurried from the room.

"Now, Steve, I want you to be still or I'll have you sedated," Travis warned.

"I…I just need to see dad…make sure…make sure he's okay," Steve gasped. He closed his eyes and tried to ride out the nausea that churned through his gut, but the bile rose in his throat and his body convulsed as he expelled the noxious tasting fluid. Steve had no idea how long the attack lasted, but it soon turned in to harsh coughing and he felt a warm cloth on his face. His father's voice reached him and he opened his eyes. "Dad…"

"I'm here, Steve," Mark said and pushed himself out of the wheelchair. He waited for Jesse to lower the rail and sat on the edge of the bed. "What's wrong, Son?"

"Need to…need to protect you…they'll come…come back!"

"The police have us both in protective custody, Steve…they won't get anywhere near us," the older man assured his son, but he did not miss the fear shining in Steve's eyes. "You know Captain Newman knows what he's doing Steve…you trust him."

"I…I do, but Damian and Tatiana are crazy, Dad…"

"I know, but the police will catch him, now why don't you close your eyes and get some sleep…maybe they'll move you in with me while you're resting," Mark said.

"Am ti…tired," Steve said, sighing heavily as the medication took control. He could hear his father and Jesse talking, but there words remained unclear as if they were spoken while he was underwater. He felt his father's hand in his own just before the darkness closed in around him.

"Mark, you should get back to your room," Jesse said softly as Mark reached for his son's chart. "We'll be moving him in with you as soon as you're settled."

"Put him by the window," Mark said, reluctantly releasing his son's hand. He turned away from the bed and sat in the wheelchair as Amanda took control and wheeled him from the room. The officer assigned to him fell into step behind them while another remained standing at Steve's door. There were several others scattered throughout the corridor and Mark realized they were not there because of duty, but because Steve was a fellow officer and one they respected for his honesty and loyalty. He would be forever in their debt so long as Steve was safe.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Damian Ryan had never been so frustrated in all his life, but there was nothing he could do while Mark and Steve Sloan were in the hospital and under protective custody. He'd managed to slip inside through an unlocked door and had used a computer to locate the two men. Steve Sloan was being moved in with his father, but there was no listing of his room and Damian knew that was standard procedure for the police.

Damian shoved his hands in his pocket as he walked away from the hospital, hiding in the shadows in an effort to stay as inconspicuous as possible. To be caught now would mean Brian and the others had died for nothing and that was not going to happen. He knew Tatiana was scared, but she would do as he told her and when the time came he might even allow her to kill Steve Sloan while his father watched. To see the old man's face as she took his son's life would make up for some of the hard ships he'd been forced to endure since the Sloans escape.

Damian knew they would need money, but right now they needed to lie low in an effort to stay under the police radar that surrounded the city. The cops were looking for them and he knew they would not give up easily because one of their own was involved. He had people who owed him, but most of them were afraid of helping him because of the police involvement. If it came right down to it he knew he could simply rob a late night liquor store and that was exactly what he was going to do. The liquor store would also supply him with something stronger than water to drink and maybe a few little trinkets he could bring home to Tatiana.

"Soon, Sloan, very soon," Damian thought as he fingered the weapon stashed inside his jacket and hurried toward the house he was staying at.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark watched his son for any signs that he was coming around, but since being brought down from SICU over an hour ago, Steve had not moved. Jesse and Amanda had stayed until they were sure the injured men were okay, leaving only when Mark assured them they'd be fine.

Mark slid from his bed, using the IV pole for balance as he walked to the window and sat in the chair the nurse had placed there. He knew it could be a long time before his son woke up, but he wanted to be there if Steve opened his eyes. Some of the equipment had been removed, but there was still an abundance of specialized equipment including monitors that were linked to the nursing station.

Mark sighed heavily as he stared at his son, wondering how many times he'd been in this position. How many times had he kept vigil because Steve was sick, or injured, or just plain exhausted? How much could one man face and still come out unchanged? He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this experience would not only haunt Steve, but himself as well. There was no way a man could face something like this and not have some part of it stay with him for the rest of his life.

Mark rubbed at his temples as the headache he'd been ignoring intensified and knew he would have to rest before it got any worse. He closed his eyes as a wave of nausea washed over him, and managed to get to his feet and make his way around his son's bed and climb into his own. He lay on his side, pulling the blankets up over his aching body and watched his son's face closely until his eyelids felt weighted down and sleep beckoned to him.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve slowly allowed the strange sensations life as consciousness returned and he peeled his eyelids open. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the pale light cast from the window and he realized it must be late evening. He turned his head away from the window and frowned when he saw the man sleeping in the other bed.

"Dad," he whispered uncertainly, and blinked his eyes several times until the sluggishness left him. It was his father and he was hurt, but Steve could not remember what had happened. Fleeting images were all he grasped and he closed his eyes while waiting for the room to stop its dizzying spin. His eyes shot open as a hand touched his shoulder and his father's pale face seemed to float just above his bed. "Dad…"

"I'm here, Steve, just relax and breathe slowly," Mark advised.

"You okay…what happened?"

Mark knew his son's confusion was normal after everything he'd been through and that his memory would return once they eased off on the heavy sedation. He reached up and touched Steve's forehead, relieved to find it cooler than it had been the last time he checked. "What do you remember, Son?"

"I…was coming home. Stopped to…to help a girl…Tati…Damian!" Steve snarled and tried to come off the bed as the images flashed before his eyes.

"Easy, Steve, they're not here," Mark assured him. "The police are looking for them and there are two officers outside the door."

"Good…they're going to come after you, Dad. They blame you for that kid's death…"

"I know…"

Steve heard the guilt in his father's voice and reached out to him, clasping his wrist as the older man turned away. He remembered more and more of what happened, including the reason Damian had wanted his father to suffer. "Dad, none of this is your fault!"

"Isn't it? Look at what they did to you because…"

"Because they don't want to admit that his death was their fault. You did everything you could to help that kid, Dad."

"Did I, Steve? What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not, Dad," the younger Sloan stated with a hint of a smile. "I know you and you'd do everything and more to make sure he had a chance. The fact that he's dead tells me no one could have saved him."

"That's a pretty big statement, Son."

"I tell it as I see it, Dad," Steve said, shifting slightly in an effort to relieve the pain in his abdomen.

"I'm going to call the nurse and have her give you something for pain," Mark told him.

"Thanks, Dad," the officer said and let his eyes slide closed. He heard soft voices and soon felt someone touching his IV and knew there'd soon be relief from the pain as the morphine entered his system.

"Sleep, Steve," Mark whispered.

"You too, Dad," Steve said and heard his father move away. He opened his eyes to half mast and relaxed when he saw the other man's eyes close. With his father close by, Steve Sloan gave in to his body's need for sleep.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 10

Mark Sloan woke to near darkness and slowly peeled his eyelids open. The room was quiet, except for the soft sounds emanating from his room mate. He slowly sat up and slid his legs over the edge of the bed before holding onto the IV pole and making his way to the second bed. The meager light from the partially open curtains bathed Steve's pale features in a golden halo that gave his skin an almost translucent appearance.

Mark took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he thought of his son's job and the dangers he faced every day. Steve had landed in the hospital more times than he cared to count, but at least those times had been while in the process of doing his job. That was not the case this time…Steve's injuries were a direct result of his being related to Mark. Damian had gone after the one thing that meant more than life itself to Mark Sloan, and he'd nearly taken that away from him.

"God, Steve, I'm sorry," Mark whispered and reached out to touch his son's cheek. There was still a hint of fever, but it wasn't the raging fire it had been when they'd first been brought to Community General. Deep down, Mark knew no one blamed him, especially not Steve, but looking at his son's injuries felt like someone was driving a spike through his heart. It hurt more than the physical wounds he'd received.

"Dad, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Son…you're supposed to be sleeping," Mark mock scolded.

"I am…I was, but I need to go to the bathroom," Steve said and shifted as if trying to get out of the bed.

"Stay where you are, Steve, and I'll get the nurse…"

"I can do it, Dad," the younger man interrupted.

"Oh, really, and who's going to pick you up when you fall flat on your face?" Mark asked.

"I…oh…damn," Steve cursed softly and realized exactly what his father meant…hating that he was right again.

"Glad you see things my way," the physician said and pressed the button pinned to Steve's bed.

"Can I help you?" the nurse asked.

"Yes, we need some help in here," Mark answered.

"I'll send your nurse right in," the voice assured them.

Mark watched his son closely, turning when the door opened and a familiar form stood framed in the light from the hallway. There was no doubt he was in for a scolding, but he tried to divert her attention before she zeroed in on him. "Steve needs…"

"I'm sure Steve can speak for himself, Mark, but you should be in your bed!" Anna Downey scolded, hands on her hips as she walked toward him.

"You're busted, Dad," Steve teased tiredly.

"Yes, he is…back to bed, Dr. Sloan!" Downey ordered, emphasis on the title as she marched him the short distance to his bed and waited for him to lie back and pull the blankets up over him. She turned to the other patient and any hint of sternness disappeared as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Now, Steve, is there something I can help you with?"

"I need to…ah, you know…I need to go…"

"Why is it men have such trouble forming coherent sentences when they…"

"He needs a urinal, Anna," Mark finished for his son.

"I thought so," Downey said and made her way to the bathroom, returning with the item and pulling the curtains across to allow the younger man some privacy. "Now, Steve…"

"I can do it," the injured man told her.

"I'm sure you can, but do you realize I'll have to change the sheets and your bandages if you spill any…hmm…"

"I guess men aren't the only ones who have problems expressing themselves," Mark said, a hint of humor in his voice. He lay back against his pillows and listened as the nurse helped his son take care of things. Anna Downey was a wonderful nurse and he looked forward to learning more about her once he was released from the hospital. He heard her go into the bathroom and flush the toilet and knew his son was probably blushing because of his weakness right now.

"All right, Steve, if there's anything else you need just hit the button," Downey told him.

"Thanks, Anna, I will," the younger Sloan said as the woman opened the curtains. He turned to look at his father and managed a weak smile before his eyes closed.

Mark studied his son's face for several minutes until he was sure Steve was sleeping. He checked the monitors, relieved to see everything was within normal parameters and finally closed his eyes.

Anna Downey checked in on her patients ten minutes later, smiling when she noted both men were sleeping and had turned so that the first thing they saw upon waking was their roommate. Easing the door closed, Anna walked back to the desk and reached for the steaming cup of coffee she'd placed there.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Jesse Travis pushed open the door and walked in to find Mark Sloan seated in a chair beside the window watching over his sleeping son. "Good morning, Mark."

"Morning, Jesse," Sloan greeted his younger colleague. "How d you feel?"

"Better," Mark answered honestly. "When can I get out of here?"

"I just checked your chart and you should be able to go home tomorrow morning," Jesse answered and watched as his friends shoulders slumped. "I thought you'd be happy with that news."

"I am, Jesse, but…"

"You don't like the idea of leaving Steve here alone?"

"Am I that easy to read?"

"When it comes to Steve…yes," Travis answered. "Mark, there'll be an officer outside his door at all times. I'm pretty certain you'll have the same thing when you go home, but…"

"But what?"

"I was wondering if you'd like some company for a few days?"

"I'm a grown man, Jesse, I can handle myself."

"I know, but my place is being fumigated and I just…"

"Wanted an excuse to watch out for me," Sloan stated with an easy smile.

"You could say that," Jesse said. "So can I crash at your place?"

"I guess so," the older man said and watched as his son's eyelids fluttered and slowly opened.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Travis said with a smile.

"They don't pay me enough to do this," Steve mumbled.

"Perhaps it's time you looked at getting an easier job," Jesse suggested.

"Not what I meant…was talking about waking up and first thing I see is…you," the policeman told him.

"Very funny, Steve," Travis said, glancing at the injured man's file. "Seriously, Steve, how do you feel this morning?"

"Sore," Sloan answered.

"I'd say that's an understatement if I ever heard one," Travis said, shaking his head as he realized father and son were so much alike. "Well, Steve, the latest test results are much better than I expected…"

"So I can get out of here?"

"Not today or tomorrow or the day after that," Jesse warned.

"So in three days…"

"I give up," Travis said exasperatedly. "Ask me again in a week."

"A week…"

"That's a very conservative number, Son," the elder Sloan observed. "Besides you'll soon be put on a regular diet and we both know how much you enjoy hospital food."

"I never thought of that," Steve said and turned to Jesse. "Any chance the kitchen is making meatloaf?"

"Steve, that brown substance should never be called meatloaf," Travis said, disgust evident in the way he wrinkled his nose.

"Don't knock it…besides I thought the hospital was supposed to serve nutritious meals."

"They are…it just doesn't mean it tastes good," Jesse told him, watching Steve closely as he showed signs of pain and exhaustion. "Steve, you're hooked up to a PCA and I want you to use it when you need it."

"I will…"

"I'll believe that when I see it," Mark observed, surprised when his son's hand pressed down on the box and delivered the medication.

"Steve, Captain Newman has been asking when he can question you…"

"Is he here?" the younger Sloan asked.

"No, I told him I'd call when you feel up to it," Travis advised.

"I should…"

"Steve, he knows who's responsible and they have APBs out on them, so your statement can wait until you're strong enough to stay awake longer than fifteen minutes at a time," Mark said sternly.

"I am a little tired…"

"A little?" Mark asked skeptically, but there was no answer from his son.

"He's sleeping, Mark," Travis observed.

"Good, he needs to rest."

"You both do. Why don't you get some rest and maybe I'll bring you a sandwich from that little deli across the street," Travis offered.

"Corned beef on rye with Dijon mustard?"

"Of course," Jesse said. He waited until his colleague climbed into bed and left the two men alone. Jesse greeted the cop standing outside the door before moving to the nurse's desk and speaking with the woman seated there. Once he was sure they understood his orders he left to get Mark the promised sandwich.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark Sloan had never been so happy to be home and even the police officers assigned to protect him didn't even dampen his mood. It had been hard leaving the hospital while Steve was still a patient, but if things continued to improve his son would be home in a few days and they could recover together.

The police had finally taken Steve's statement, but there was nothing Steve could add to what Mark had already told them. Damian and Tatiana were still out there, but Mark refused to live his life hidden away from the people he cared about. Jesse had prescribed a mild pain medication, and he shook two of the pills into his hand before downing them with a glass of water.

"Mark, are you in here?"

"I'm here, Amanda," Sloan answered, touching the cold glass against his forehead as the woman joined him in the living room.

"How are you feeling, Mark?" Amanda Bentley asked upon entering the room.

"Tired and sore, but glad to be home."

"I bet you are. I brought coffee and sandwiches," Bentley told him and passed the older man a Starbuck's cup.

"Thanks," Sloan said. "Did you see Steve today?"

"I stopped in before I left, but he was sleeping. Connie Evans was there with him…she suits him."

"Yes, she does. I'm hoping Steve will invite her to dinner once he's home," Sloan said and sipped the hot beverage. "This is good."

"Thanks…Ham or turkey?"

"Ham," the physician answered, smiling when she also placed a bowl of chicken vegetable soup in front of him.

"I figured you'd like this as well," Bentley said.

"I do," Sloan assured her. "Amanda, how would you like to help me with a little detective work?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"I keep thinking there has to be some way to trace Damian and Tatiana. El Diablo is well known in the streets, but no one seems to know where the gang leader hides when the heat is on. We could use the internet and try to find out if there's a place in the city where they could be holed up."

"We could, but you need to rest so why don't I start checking while you finish your lunch and get some sleep?"

"I should help…"

"You will be by sleeping because then I won't be worrying about you," Amanda told him. She smiled as he finished his lunch and headed for his bedroom while she booted up his laptop and began searching for friends or relatives who might hide Damian and Tatiana.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Connie Evans reached over the rail and took Steve's hand in her own as his eyelids fluttered and finally opened. She smiled as he seemed to focus on her and reached over to brush back the hair from his forehead. "Hi," she said softly.

"Hi, when did you get here?" Sloan asked, raising the head of his bed.

"Not long ago…"

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because you're supposed to be resting," Evans answered and brushed her lips against his. "God, Steve, I've been so worried."

"I'm okay, Connie," Sloan assured her, but could see by the frown she didn't believe him. "Connie, we both know how dangerous my job is…"

"I know, but that doesn't make it any easier seeing you like this. When Captain Newman called me and asked for my help I thought…I thought you were going to die, Steve. God, I had to fight to keep my emotions in check when I went to your house," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Connie…"

"It's not your fault, Steve…it's those animals who think they can just take what they want and to hell with everyone else! They could have killed you and your father and they're still out there!" Connie spat.

"Captain Newman will find them," Steve said seriously.

"I hope so and I hope they spend the rest of their lives behind bars." Tears sprang to her eyes and she turned away, but Steve managed to reach over the rail and grab her hand.

"Don't go…it'll be okay," Sloan told her.

"I'm not going anywhere, Steve," Evans vowed and lowered the rail so she could sit on the edge of the bed. She looked into his eyes and knew she could easily lose herself in the emotive eyes. "I think I'm falling in love with you Steve Sloan."

"I hope so, Connie, because I'd like to think we have a future together," Steve told her, closing his eyes and sighing tiredly before giving in to his body's need for sleep.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 11

Mark opened his eyes and licked dry lips before sitting up and glancing around his bedroom. The blinds were pulled down to keep the sun from shining in and he rubbed at sleep drenched eyes before standing and making his way to the bathroom. He flicked on the light and blinked several times before his vision cleared and he stared at the pale face in the mirror.

Mark knew he looked terrible, but he actually felt better since sleeping in his own bed. He reached for a cloth and washed his face before combing his hair and brushing his teeth. He made his way to his closet and quickly found a change of clothes and put them on. Feeling almost human again, he made his way toward the living room intent on calling the hospital to check on his son.

"Mark, you look much better," Amanda told him.

"Thanks…I feel almost human again," Sloan told her.

"You forgot something," Bentley said pointedly.

"I did?"

"I could have sworn you're supposed to use the sling for at least another week."

"Oh…I was kind of hoping you wouldn't notice," Mark said.

"Sit down and I'll get it for you," Bentley ordered.

Mark knew there was no point in arguing with her and sat down in the armchair, wincing when his arm came up against the side of the chair. He held his left arm in his right as Amanda returned and helped him ease the wounded limb into the sling. "Thank you, Amanda," he said.

"You're welcome. Would you like something to eat?"

"Just coffee," Sloan answered.

"Contrary to popular belief…coffee is not a food. I made some Macaroni and cheese," Bentley offered and knew she'd hit on something her friend could not resist.

"Extra creamy?"

"Is there any other kind?" Amanda asked with a smile.

Mark adjusted the sling and closed his eyes while he waited for Amanda's return. When she touched his shoulder he jolted awake and blinked several times before focusing on her. "Sorry, can't seem to stay awake."

"No need to apologize, Mark, why don't you eat and then go back to bed…"

"I was going to call the hospital and check on Steve."

"I figured as much so I took the liberty of calling. Steve is sleeping, but he did manage to eat a light lunch."

"Did he keep it down?"

"Yes, Anna said he's being such a wonderful patient compared to his tyrannical father," Bentley explained with a grin as she placed the tray of food across his lap.

"Thanks, Amanda," Sloan said and lifted the fork from the tray. "Amanda, would you drive me to the hospital?"

"I figured you were going to ask me that, Mark, and the answer is yes, but not until you finish eating…all of it," Bentley warned.

"It's good…did you find anything on Damian or Tatiana?"

"Plenty, just nothing that tells us where they are," Amanda explained. "Tatiana Richards ran away from an abusive home and has lived on the streets since she was thirteen. She was picked up several times and put in group homes or foster care, but as soon as she had the chance she left."

"Why do I find it hard to feel sorry for her," Mark observed sadly.

"It's hard to feel sorry for her, Mark," Bentley supplied. "The last home she was in she beat another girl so badly she put her in the hospital. The family called the police and charges were laid, but Tatiana was still a juvenile and somehow it all got swept under the rug. She disappeared for about a year and then surfaced on the arm of Damian Ryan. They soon had a strong gang behind them and were quickly dubbed El Diablo by the newspapers because some people thought they worked for the devil himself…"

"Sounds about right," Sloan told her, picking disinterestedly at his meal.

"Tatiana had several relatives living in the city, but only one acknowledged her and he was killed several years ago," Amanda explained. "She has a record as long as your arm, Mark, and there are more charges pending."

"What did you find out about Damian?"

"Damian started out early…at age ten he assaulted a kid on his street because he didn't like the way the boy looked at him. He was put in juvenile hall at the age of eleven because his mother could no longer control him. Damian quickly made a name for himself and had several followers by the time his first week was over. He escaped at the age of twelve and returned to his home where he killed his mother and father. The police arrested him and he spent the next five years in custody. He had an exemplary record and was freed at the age of seventeen, and quickly returned to a life of crime. He became the uncontested leader of El Diablo and had several gangs on the run within the first year. He's got several arrest warrants out for him, but no one's ever been able to find him," Bentley explained and rubbed at tired eyes. "His record makes Tatiana's look like a walk in the park."

Mark leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he thought about the two people who'd nearly taken his son's life. He didn't believe in people being born bad, but these two had quickly turned to a life of crime at an early age. He'd seen so many young people in danger of ruining their lives, but thankfully most had found their way back to the right path and lived productive, happy lives. Damian and Tatiana and the rest of the El Diablo gang had earned his anger and distaste and somehow he would see them brought to justice.

"Mark, what are you thinking about?" Bentley asked.

"There has to be something we're missing, Amanda," Sloan told her.

"I've gone over the information we have several times, Mark, I wish I had better news, but there's nothing to tell us where Damian has holed up."

"I…Amanda, I'm sorry, I know you did what you could and realize the police are at a dead end here too, but I can't help thinking they're close by…watching and waiting," Sloan said tiredly.

"Mark, Captain Newman has men stationed outside Steve's room and outside the house. They won't get anywhere near either of you," Bentley vowed.

"I wish I had your confidence, Amanda, but all they have to do is stay hidden until the police figure there's no danger anymore," Mark explained.

"You have a lot of friends on the force, Mark, and Steve is one of their own. They won't let this go easily."

"It won't be up to them...there'll come a time when they won't be able to justify the extra funds needed to keep watching us," Sloan said and placed the tray of barely touched food on the coffee table. He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up, striding to the window and looking out at the view he'd always taken solace in.

"Mark…"

"Amanda, I want to go see Steve…will you drive me?"

"Of course," Bentley said and turned her attention to clearing the remnants of the meal.

Mark stared out at the ocean, feeling the soft breeze that brought the familiar scent with it. He'd always loved the ocean, which was one of the reasons he'd purchased this home. It was within driving distance of Community General and offered the serenity of the ocean view for a single price. Steve moving in with him had solidified the feeling of home and he hoped it wouldn't be long before his son was back where he belonged.

"Mark, are you ready?" Amanda asked and grew worried when she noticed how pale her friend had gone. "Mark, perhaps you should…"

"I'm okay, Amanda," Sloan assured her and grabbed his jacket before opening the door for her. It wasn't long before they were driving toward Community General with a police car following closely behind.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve stared out the window as he tried to ignore the growing ache in his body. It seemed as if there was no way to ease the pain and he reluctantly pressed the button on the PCA pump. It wasn't long before the medication worked its magic and he closed his eyes and thought about the woman who'd lain with him for most of the afternoon. There was something about her that just melted his heart and he wondered if it was time to take things a little further.

Steve thought about the ring nestled in the drawer of his dresser. A ring once worn by his grandmother and given to him before she'd passed away with the promise that he give it to the woman who took his heart and wrapped it in her loving embrace. Connie had certainly done that, but Steve wasn't sure he could ask her to marry him when his job was wrought with danger. Was he willing to give it up if that's what she asked of him?

A light knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts and he smiled at the man who entered his room and sat on the edge of his bed. "Hi, Dad, you look better…thought you were supposed to be resting at home?"

"I was, but I figured you could use some company and Amanda was there to drive me in," Mark answered and smiled mischievously at his son. "Unless Connie is coming to visit and you'd rather spend some quiet time with her?"

"She just left," Steve told him.

"I'm sorry I missed her…she seems good for you," the older Sloan observed.

"We're good for each other," the younger man assured him. "Did you and Amanda find out anything new on Damian and Tatiana?"

"What makes you think we were…"

"I know you, Dad, you're not going to sit back and wait for them to come to you!"

"We just looked into their backgrounds…"

"And?"

"And we didn't find out anything that could help us find them," Mark spat disgustedly as the door opened and Jesse Travis entered.

"You know I could have sworn you were told to stay home and get some rest," the younger physician said with a touch of a smile.

"You're busted, Dad," Steve said with a grin.

"I believe I'll talk to Anna about riding your…"

"Don't say it, Jesse, or I'll put you on bedpan duty!" Mark warned.

"Now, Mark, you're in no position to be giving orders," Travis said and moved to check the monitors, relieved to see Steve's numbers were better and that his fever was subsiding. "How are you feeling, Steve?"

"Better, Jesse," the policeman answered honestly. "When can I go home?"

"Steve, you're barely out of SICU…going home is not an option for at least a week to ten days," Jesse answered.

"Damn, I thought I'd be able to pull one over on you," Steve said, and saw the hint of a smile on his father's face. It did little to remove the lines of strain and pain, but at least it gave them something to cling to…their lives would return to normal, but for now they'd need to watch out for each other.

"That's not going to happen, Steve," Jesse warned, and adjusted the IV flow before checking the PCA, relieved when he found that Steve was not trying to hold off the pain on his own. "Mark, Amanda said you hardly touched your lunch. I was just going to grab a bite to eat and wouldn't mind some company."

"Jesse, I'd rather…"

"Go ahead, Dad, I'm just going to sleep for a while," Steve assured him and shifted slightly as he closed his eyes.

"You heard him, Mark, my treat," Jesse offered.

"Dad, would you look out the window for me?"

"Sure, Son, what am I looking for?"

"Tell me it's not snowing out there."

"Steve, it's eighty degreed…" Jesse said and realized what his friend was doing. "Very funny, Steve, I've bought Mark's lunch before."

"Jesse, we own BBQ Bobs so that just doesn't count," Mark lightly scolded.

"Well, we do make the best chicken and ribs in the city so why not treat you to the best?"

"Get him out of here, Dad, or I might just decide to go with you," Steve said.

"I don't think there's any place to rent a vehicle big enough to carry the extra luggage or I'd pack you up and treat you to the biggest order of ribs you've ever indulged in," Jesse vowed.

"I'll take you up on that in a couple of days…"

"Make that a couple of weeks and you're on," Jesse said with a grin.

"Go ahead and sleep, Steve, I'll be back in an hour," Mark told him.

"I'll be here, Dad," the patient said and watched the two men leave. His mind wandered to the two people who'd escaped custody and were still out there…somewhere. He knew how dangerous they were and didn't want to think about what would happen if they got their hands on his father. That was something he would not allow…one way or the other he would find a way to stop Damian and Tatiana from hurting his dad.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Diagnosis-Revenge--- 12

Steve Sloan had never been a patient man and being in the hospital made things even worse. He knew Jesse and his father were probably right, but he needed to have some freedom. Oh he understood it would be some time before he could go back to even light duties, but that did not mean he had to stay cooped up in the hospital. At least at home he could look at the files and check into the information they already had. Damian and Tatiana were out there and there was no way in hell he was letting them get anywhere near his father. He folded his arms across his chest, careful not to dislodge the IV flowing into his right hand as his father and Jesse entered the room.

"Uhoh, perhaps we should come back later," Jesse said, knowing full well what his stubborn friend wanted.

"You do and I won't be here," Steve warned.

"Steve, Jesse told me you threatened to sign yourself out," Mark said, his tone showing just what he thought of the idea. It had been nearly a week since his own release and he'd been expecting this a lot sooner.

"Look, Dad, I know I won't be able to go back to work…"

"If you even think about it I'll have you locked up in the psychiatric ward," Jesse vowed.

"You would to," Steve said, a hint of a smile on his face.

"If he doesn't…I will," Mark said.

"Dad, I'm not stupid…I know my limits. I just want to sleep in my own bed…"

"Good, because that's exactly what you'll be doing. Jesse and Amanda will help me see to that," Mark told him, rubbing at his injured shoulder.

"You okay, Dad?" Steve asked.

"I'm fine, Steve, shoulders still a little sore," Mark answered honestly as he adjusted the sling.

"Like father like son," Jesse said of the 'I'm fine' routine. "Steve, I'll sign the discharge papers, but not until Dr. Coburn checks you over and agrees to your release."

"When will he be here?" the younger Sloan asked.

"He was just starting his rounds and should be here any time, but I wouldn't bank on him being an easy sell, Son," Mark answered. "Daniel Coburn doesn't like to release his patients unless he thinks they are going to stick to his orders."

"Morning, Mark, Jesse," Daniel Coburn greeted the two physicians as he entered the room. "How's the arm, Mark?"

"A little sore, but it's getting better each day," the physician answered.

"Are they recommending physio?" Coburn asked.

"I've already started," Mark answered.

"Good, just don't try to overdo things, Coburn warned.

"That would be my son's problem," Mark told him.

"I take it he tends to overdo things?"

"Yes, he does," Jesse answered.

"He's right here!" Steve snapped indignantly as he watched the three doctors who seemed to hold his life in their hands.

"Oh, sorry, Son," Mark said with a teasing grin. "Daniel, would you talk some sense into him?"

"What's he done now?" Coburn asked.

"He wants to go home," Jesse answered.

"He can," Coburn answered and saw the look of disbelief on his colleague's faces. "In about a week..."

"A week?" Steve snarled.

"Steve, you have to realize you were seriously and lost a lot of blood. It will take some time before you're up to doing even the usual day to day things," Coburn explained.

"Look, Doc, I'm feeling better…even the fever's gone. I can rest and sleep a lot easier at home," the recalcitrant patient snapped.

"If I thought you would rest I might just think about it, but I've seen what you're like, Steve, and if your half as bad as your reputation then I'd rather keep you here where the nurses can shoot you up with something that'll keep you down," Coburn said seriously.

"I can sign myself out," Steve said.

"You could, but you'd be brought back by ambulance pretty fast and that would add more hospital time. What I'd like you to do is give me a few more days and then I'll reassess you and if I think you're better off at home I'll sign the discharge papers," Coburn told him.

"Two days, Doc, then I'll sign them myself," Steve vowed.

"Is he always this stubborn?" Coburn asked.

"You haven't seen anything yet, Daniel," Mark answered and smiled when his son scowled at him.

"I come by it honestly…from my father," the younger Sloan told him.

"Be that as it may, Steve, you really do have to take it easy and give yourself time to heal. Now I'd like to take a look at you before I leave for the day," Coburn told him.

Steve closed his eyes and soon felt the surgeon's cold hands touching the area around the wounds. He lost track of time as Jesse and Coburn checked over his injuries. He opened his eyes and saw his father watching him closely and tried to smile in spite of his discomfort.

"Well, Steve, things are looking good, but there are still signs of infection in the wounds to your abdomen. I'll have the nurse clean them…how long since you had something for pain?"

"According to his nurse he hasn't had anything since last night," Jesse answered.

"Steve, there's no need to show how strong you are in here. I prescribed the pain medication so you'd be able to get the rest you need. Do I have to change the orders and have the nurses give you a shot every four hours," Coburn explained.

"Hell, Doc…"

"Hell's right if you keep ignoring what your brain's telling you," Jesse interrupted. "I'll have Anna bring you a shot before I take Mark home…"

"I'm not going home, Jesse…I'm going to check on a couple of…"

"Now who's being stubborn, Dad?" Steve asked as Jesse pressed the button and summoned the nurse.

"Point taken," Mark reluctantly conceded. "Jesse, I can take a cab…"

"It's okay, Mark, I figure if Steve's getting out of here in a few days you'll need help fixing up the spare room…"

"I can sleep in my own…"

"Two words, Steve," Jesse said and smiled. "Stairs…cast"

"Damn, I hate it when you're right," the injured man said as Anna Downey entered carrying a syringe.

"Good morning," she said and injected the medication into Steve's IV before turning to the elder Sloan. "Mark, I was wondering if you'd like some company for dinner tonight…I made a Macaroni and Cheese casserole that's way too big for one person."

"That would be nice, Anna," Mark said.

"I'll see you around seven if that's okay?"

"That's fine," Mark said and watched her leave before turning to find his son watching him with a hint of a mischievous smile. "What?"

"Nice move, Dad," Steve said and rested back against the pillows as the medication began to take affect.

"Go ahead and sleep, Steve, I'll call you later," Mark said.

"Thanks, Dad," Steve said and heard the others leave. He drifted toward sleep, but jumped as the phone on the table began to ring. He reached for the receiver and dropped it twice before he managed to place it at his ear. "Hello…"

"_So, you're still alive, Sloan…too bad, but I will fix that before long…how's dear old daddy doing? Is he still there?"_

Steve struggled to clear his mind as the voice became clear. "Damian…" he whispered.

"_I'm so glad you haven't forgotten me, Sloan. I'm on my way out of town, but I wanted to make sure you knew I'm still around. Dear old daddy will pay for killing Brian…"_

"Put the blame where it belongs, Damian…you killed Brian the minute you two crossed paths."

"_Don't you say that! I showed Brian how to…"_

"Become a thief and murderer…yeah, you're a real role model for stupid hoodlums are us," Steve said. "You're a pathetic excuse for a gang leader, Damian…oh that's right you're no longer have a gang because you got them all killed."

"_Watch that mouth, Sloan…"_

"You're a loser…"

"_And you're a dead man talking…maybe not today or tomorrow, but I promise I'll be back and I'll make your dad watch as I slit your throat…"_

"Not going to happen, Damian…you're going to spend the rest of your life in jail," Steve vowed.

"_You'll have to find me first, Sloan!"_

"That won't be hard…I'll just follow the flies…"

"_What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_

"You're a piece of crap, Damian, and the flies stick to that…"

"_Oh, you're real funny, Cop, but I'll wipe that smile away when we meet again."_

"I'll be watching for you, Damian," Sloan vowed and heard the line go dead. He dropped the phone on the pillow and lay back, his head pounding as his heart beat too quickly. He knew Damian Ryan was crazy, but he was also dangerously obsessed with killing Mark Sloan. Somehow he would have to find the gang leader before he got anywhere near his father.

Steve looked down at his body and knew he couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag right now, but if Damian really had left town it would give him time to heal before their next encounter. Something told him, Damian was closer than he let on and that the Diablo leader wasn't going anywhere until he got what he wanted…the death of Mark Sloan.

Silently cursing his injuries, Steve closed his eyes and prayed Damian wouldn't get anywhere near his father. He'd talk to Newman about making sure there were men stationed at the house and ready to follow Mark wherever he decided to go. Sleep finally overtook him, but it was far from restful as his dreams were filled with his worst nightmare and he was forced to watch his father die while he was helpless to help.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Damian slammed the phone onto the cradle and shoved his hands into his pocket before making his way back to the house. He'd robber a liquor store, but had only came away with sixty seven dollars and a couple of bottles of tequila. He'd shot the lone clerk and escaped before the police arrived. He was four blocks from the liquor store and had spotted the pay phone. It was a simple matter of getting the phone number and finally being connected with Steve Sloan's room.

Sloan had sounded out of it at first, but he'd quickly changed his tone when he realized who he was talking to. The problem was the cop sounded confident, even challenging and that was something Damian hadn't expected. In truth he thought Steve Sloan should have been horror struck that he'd called.

"You and your dad will find out just what happens to people who cross me!" Damian spat and kicked at an empty can that rolled out of an alley on his right. He knew he should do exactly as he'd told Steve Sloan he was doing, but he couldn't leave knowing the cop and his father were still alive. He needed to see them dead, not because of Brian Johnson, but because Steve Sloan had the guts to stand up to him. EL Diablo was his gang, and he'd damn well rebuild it once he finished with both Sloans. A malicious smile formed as he strode along the back streets and thought of the ways he could kill his enemies.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark relaxed in the lounge chair on the deck of his house. Jesse was inside making lunch while two officers, in street clothes, watched the house from the neighboring property. The people that owned the house were away for the month and Mark knew them well enough that he felt safe giving the police permission to set up watch from their yard.

Mark's thoughts turned to his son and he hoped Steve was resting, yet he understood his son had reached the point where he was well enough to argue being confined to the hospital. He hoped and prayed Steve would stay where he was until Damian was caught, but his son was stubborn and chomping at the bit to be released. He knew they were lucky he'd conceded to spend another two days at Community General.

"Mark, did you want to eat out here?"

"That would be great, Jesse," Sloan answered.

"I'll be right back," Travis told him.

Mark sighed heavily and rubbed at his arm. He'd met with the physio therapist again before leaving the hospital and his arm throbbed in spite of his using the sling. He looked up as Jesse returned with a plate of Ham sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade. "Thanks, Jesse."

"You're welcome," Travis told him and put the items on the table before sitting across from his friend and showing him two pills. "Here."

"Thanks," Mark said and took the Tylenol with the lemonade. The two men ate in silence as the waves lapped softly against the shore, giving them both a false sense of peace.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Connie Evans eased the door open and stepped into the room. She smiled as she looked at Steve Sloan, sleeping peacefully as the sun peeked in through the partially open curtains. His face was still pale, his eyes rimmed with darkness, and his mouth set in a deep line that spoke of pain. She wished she could erase the last two weeks, and take away the pain so evident on his traumatized body. She felt tears in her eyes and quickly wiped them away before moving to the window and looking out at the city.

Steve fought his way up from he pit of nightmares he'd sank into and opened his eyes. He turned his head slightly and smiled when he saw how the sun bathed Connie in a soft golden light, bringing out the highlights in her hair. He remained still, content to just look at her until she realized he was awake. A sigh reached his ears as she used a tissue to wipe at her eyes and he realized she'd been crying. "Connie, what's wrong?"

"I thought you were sleeping," Connie whispered and moved to the bed. She leaned over him and brushed her lips against his before brushing back the hair from his forehead.

"Sleeping is about all I've been doing," Sloan answered. He raised the head of his bed a little as she lowered the rail and sat on the edge. He reached for her hand and felt her fingers grasp his as tears slipped from her eyes. "Connie, I'm okay."

"No you're not, Steve, my God look what those animals did to you and your father!"

"Connie it's my job…"

"I know it's your job and I'd never ask you to give it up, but when I see you like this I wish…I wish I could make you…God, Steve, I'm being foolish, but I…I love you and don't want to see you hurt."

"I love you too, Connie, and I wish I could tell you I'll never be hurt again, but I can't. As a cop I put my life on the line e very time I wake up. Someone with a grudge is always looking to get even and that's something I can't stop. I do my job and God knows I try to stay safe, but it's a cop's life and it's something I'm good at…"

"I know," Connie said and again brushed her lips against his. "I hate your job, Steve, but I love you for doing it."

Steve held her as soft sobs escaped and she lay down beside him. He felt her try to pull away, but he was not ready to let go and smiled when she pressed her body against his. He winced when she shifted and hit the wound on his abdomen, but refused to release her.

"Steve, I have to go…"

"You just got here."

"I know, but I have a couple of patients to see this afternoon. I'll come back this evening."

"Promise?"

"Try and keep me away," she vowed.

Steve reluctantly released her and wished he could hold her for the rest of their lives, but he knew they had jobs to do and she was damn good at hers. He watched her leave and lay back against the pillow, wondering whether Damian had really left town. Somehow he didn't think it would be that easy.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Diagnosis-Revenge--- 13

Mark smiled at the woman seated across from him and couldn't help, but smile. Anna Downey had worked at Community General for many years, yet he'd never entertained the idea of dating her. Now, it felt like he'd wasted valuable time and he wondered why he hadn't asker her out earlier. The casserole also proved that she was an excellent cook and that was something he appreciated.

"Mark, what are you thinking about?" Downey asked, lifting the glass of wine and taking a small sip.

"Just thinking we should have done this long ago," Sloan answered.

"Yes, we should have," Anna agreed. "I was getting frustrated waiting for you to make a move…"

"Strange, I always thought you were a liberated woman and would have been offended…"

"Now, Mark, let's not get started on women's lib because that went out with the seventies. Oh, don't get me wrong…I do enjoy when a man holds the door for me, but I prefer to pay my own way…although I also like taking the initiative when it's necessary. I like to think of myself as a nineties kind of gal," Anna told him. "Not that I'm in the nineties…"

"A man would have to be blind to make that mistake," Sloan observed.

"Oh, I don't know…there's some that think I'm downright ancient," Downey said.

"Not in my book," Mark said and reached across the table to take her hand. "Anna, than you for doing this…"

"For doing what?"

"For taking my mind off Steve and everything that's happened," the physician told her. "I've been going crazy trying to figure out what to do about Damian and Tatiana and it was nice not to think about them for a while."

"Mark, the police will catch them."

"I wish I could believe that, Anna, but Steve said they've been trying to catch the members of that gang for several years, but they haven't been able to find them. Damian is smart and he knows when to move on…"

"If that's the case maybe he's already moved on," Downey suggested.

"Somehow I doubt that very much," Sloan told her. "Damian blames me for his friend's death and he's not going to leave until he's killed Steve. I can't let that happen, Anna. I can't lose Steve too."

"You won't, Mark, the police are watching for Damian and they'll catch him…you just have to keep believing that," the nurse offered and pressed her fingers against his. "They won't win…we won't let them."

"Thank you, Anna, for everything…but especially for keeping me company this evening."

"Mark, I know it's fast, but would it be bold of me to say I want to spend the night?"

"I…I'd like that too…I don't want to be alone tonight," Sloan said and realized he meant what he said. The thought of being alone sent tremors through his body, but it wasn't fear that made them. It was the thought that this woman not only wanted to be with him, but was taking the initiative and he was enjoying the attention more than he cared to admit.

"Why don't you go into the living room while I clear this up?"

"I can help…"

"No, you need to rest. Why don't you see if there are any good movies on and I'll make coffee?"

"I know they are playing The African Queen tonight…commercial free," Sloan told her.

"Oh, I love that movie…"

"So do I," Mark said, amazed at finding someone who shared his love of older movies. "I believe we also have popcorn…"

"A man after my own heart," Downey said and slapped his hand when he made to clear the table. "I have this…you go rest."

"Yes, Dr. Downey," Sloan said and chuckled when she placed her hands on her hips and shooed him into the other room.

It wasn't long before she joined him carrying a bowl of popcorn and two cups of coffee. She placed them on the coffee table and sat next to him. It wasn't long before his arm went around her and she settled back against him, content to be held by the man she'd come to care so much about.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve looked up as the door opened and Walter Newman entered his room. He'd called the station as soon as the drugs had eased off enough for him to remember Damian's call. It didn't surprise him that his captain showed up to speak to him instead of one of his fellow officers.

"How are you feeling, Steve?" Newman asked.

"Better, Captain…"

"You know I've seen corpses who could carry that off better than you are right now," Newman said. "Stop kidding yourself, Steve, and give yourself time to heal."

"Yes, Sir," Sloan said and shifted slightly on the bed.

"I'll believe that when I see it…what time did Damian call?" Newman asked.

"I'm not sure, but it was shortly after Dad left…I would have called earlier, but the damn drugs make me sleep," Sloan explained.

"That's what they're supposed to do," the captain observed and pulled out a small notebook. "Did he say anything that might help us find him?"

"Just the usual stuff about killing me and dad. He said he was leaving town, but that he'd be back when we least expect it."

"Do you really believe he'll leave town?" Newman asked.

"Not a chance. Damian's pissed off right now and he's bound to make mistakes. He blames dad for what happened to Brian Johnson and he won't rest until he makes dad pay…I won't let that happen, Captain."

"We won't, Steve, we've got officers watching your dad and until Damian and Tatiana are found they'll stay in place."

"I thought you were supposed to pull them off…"

"I was, but the men respect and admire both you and your father and they're not about to leave you out in the cold," Newman explained. "I've also arranged to have a trace put on any calls that come in to your room."

"Damian's smart…I doubt that he'll call me again," Sloan explained.

"Maybe not, but why take the chance. So when are they letting you out?"

"Day after tomorrow," Sloan answered.

"Is that wise? You look like hell and will probably feel even worse once you're off the heavy meds," Newman told him.

"Probably, but I hate being in here and hate not being able to think clearly."

"I know, just don't go overdoing things, Steve. Are you going to tell your dad about the phone call from Damian?"

"Not yet…he'll just worry about me and end up trying to stay here," Sloan answered tiredly.

"All right, Steve, they'll hook up the trace in a couple of minutes. The one at your dad's house is still active so if he calls there we'll put a trace on it," Newman said before leaving the room.

Steve lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes. He knew his dad would camp out in his room if he knew Damian had called and threatened him, and that was something Steve didn't want. His father had been hurt enough, and Steve was used to carrying the load when he needed to. He felt the tug of sleep and the memory of Connie's visit followed him into his dreams as a slight smile appeared on his battered features.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Daniel Coburn looked at the results of Steve Sloan's latest tests and wanted to keep him for a few more days, but the officer was dead set on leaving the hospital today. Coburn looked up as Jesse Travis and Amanda Bentley walked toward him. "Good morning," he said.

"Is it," Jesse asked, exasperation evident in his tone. "I take it you haven't been in to see Steve yet?"

"Not yet…I wanted to go over the test results. Let me guess…he wants out?"

"That he does and he's not willing to listen to reason," Amanda answered.

"Mark's in there with him now, but even he can't get through to him," Jesse said.

"Did you look at these?"

"Yes, his fever is still up a bit, but…"

"That can be treated with Tylenol," Coburn finished, shaking his head when he realized there really was no concrete reason for keeping Steve Sloan in the hospital. The man was healing, the fever down quite a bit, and between, Bentley, Travis, and Mark they would take a personal role in making sure his patient rested and took his meds when ordered.

"So, you're releasing him?" Bentley asked.

"I don't think we have much choice…besides I'm sure you two will make damn sure he does what he's supposed to do," Coburn said. "Come on; let's go tell him the news."

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM**

Steve tapped his hand on the bed while his father tried to convince him to stay in the hospital, but he wanted out…waned out now. His dad had shown up at six am and had stayed where he was while waiting for Coburn to make his rounds. Jesse and Amanda had stopped in for a few minutes and taken up Mark's case, but Steve's stubborn streak had kicked into high gear as he told them what he wanted. He pressed the button to raise the head of his bed even further and tried to hide the pain from his father, but Mark's words told him he didn't succeed.

"Steve, when did you last have something for pain?"

"I'm fine, Dad," the officer lied.

"You're not fooling anyone, Son, not even yourself," the older man said. "I'll get your nurse…"

"Not yet…I want my head clear when Dr. Coburn comes in."

"Steve…"

"Dad, please, I'll call the nurse after…"

"Is everything okay in here?" Daniel Coburn asked upon entering the room to find the Sloan men arguing back and forth.

"Doc, tell me I can get out of here," Steve said.

"Are you giving me a choice, Steve, because if you are then the answer is no," Coburn said.

"It wasn't a question," the cop snapped.

"It sure sounded like one," Bentley offered with a hint of a smile.

"Come on, Amanda, not you too!" the younger Sloan said.

"So you really are dead set on going home?" Coburn asked.

"Yes, look, Doc, it's not that I don't appreciate everything you and the nurses have done, but I'll sleep better in my own bed…"

"Steve, you won't be sleeping in your bed…you'll be using the guest room on the main floor," Mark reminded him.

"It's still more comfortable than the beds here."

"He has a point there, Mark," Jesse said.

"Thanks, Jesse, nice to know you're on my side…"

"I never said I agreed with you, Steve, I just said you had a point about the beds," Travis teased.

"Damn…"

"Easy, Steve, look I'm going to sign your discharge papers, but I want your word that you'll do everything you're supposed to. That means bed rest and proper meals and taking your meds…and most importantly, no police work," Coburn warned.

"So I can go home?"

"Yes," Coburn finally acquiesced. "I'll have your discharge papers, follow up instructions, appointments, and scripts ready by the time you're dressed."

"Thanks, Doc," the patient said.

"Don't thank me yet, Steve, you just might rethink this when you're home and don't have the strong pain medications you were getting here," Coburn said, turning and walking to the door before speaking again. "I want to see you in my office in one week."

"He'll be there, Daniel," Mark vowed and turned back to his son.

"Dad, did you bring my clothes?"

"I did," Mark answered and waited for Jesse to take the 'comfort' clothing from the bag. He knew his son preferred jeans, but the loose fitting shorts would make it easier with the cast on his leg. It took nearly thirty minutes to get his son dressed and seated in a wheelchair and Mark wasn't sure who looked worse, him or Steve. "Are you okay, Son?"

"Think so," Steve said, relieved to be in street clothing and out of the bed. It wasn't long before he was in Amanda's car and headed toward the beach house.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve lay back on the bed and felt the throbbing in his skull ease as he closed his eyes. The ride home from the hospital had taken a toll on him. Jesse and Amanda had helped get him into bed while his father went to fix something for them to eat. The truth was, right now he didn't feel like eating anything.

"Steve, take these," Mark ordered and waited for his son to look at him.

Knowing it would be foolish to refuse; Steve reached for the pills and took them with the glass of water provided. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome…do you feel like eating something? Anna made a wonderful casserole…"

"Anna?" Steve asked, a smile forming at the thought of the nurse who'd set her eyes on his father.

"Yes, Anna, she was here last night and we had…"

"Did she spend the night?"

"I believe that falls under the heading of 'for me to know'…"

"And me to find out," Steve finished with a smile.

"So, Macaroni and cheese?"

"Sounds good, Dad," the younger man said.

"I'll be right back," Mark said and left the room.

Steve turned his head and looked out the window as the sounds of the ocean reached his ears. He loved living here with his father and often enjoyed walking on the beach at night with the water lapping at his feet. Unfortunately, there was also danger in the area and he sensed Damian was somewhere close by, watching and waiting for an opportunity to kill both him and his father. The medications began to take hold and he closed his eyes.

Mark entered the room followed by Jesse, and shook his head when the younger man moved to wake his son. "Let him sleep," Sloan ordered and backed out of the door. Steve needed to eat, but rest was also important and truth be told he could also use some rest.

"Mark, it's time you got some rest."

"I swear you're a mind reader, Amanda," Mark said and made his way to his bedroom. He wasn't sure if he would sleep, but knowing his son was home made it easier. By the time he lay down and pulled a blanket over his body, sleep beckoned to him and with his dreams came the nightmares brought on by his recent experiences at the hands of Damian Ryan.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Damian Ryan smiled at the thought of facing the Sloans once more. He knew the cop had been released from the hospital the day before, but he was in no shape to cause problems. It would be a couple of days before he could move on the beach house, but when he did it would mean the death of Mark and Steve Sloan.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Diagnosis-Revenge--- 14

Jesse Travis sat watching TV while his friends slept and hoped the police would catch Damian and Tatiana before either of them got anywhere near Mark and Steve. There was no doubt that they were still around, and if what he'd learned was true they were crazy enough to attack without fear of being caught. El Diablo was one of the largest and most dangerous gangs in the city, but they'd finally been taken down. Unfortunately the gang leader and his girl friend had escaped.

"Jesse."

Travis heard the soft voice from the bedroom and hurried to check on the injured man. He entered the room to find Steve struggling to sit up. "Where do you think you're going, Steve?"

"I need to get to the bathroom," Steve answered.

"Oh…hold on and I'll help you," Jesse offered.

"I can…"

"No, you can't…should I remind you of the cast?"

"Damn, I was hoping it was a dream."

"If that's the kind of dreams you have please tell me I'm not in them," Travis said with a smile.

"You're only in my nightmares," Steve teased.

"Steve, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Dad, just trying to figure out how I can get to the bathroom."

"Easier said than done," the older Sloan observed and moved to help the two men.

"Mark, you can't do anything with that arm," Jesse reminded the physician of his own injury. "All right, Steve, I'm going to ease your leg over the edge and we'll see about getting you on your feet."

Steve nodded and held his breath as Jesse helped him sit up. He smiled weakly at his father while leaning heavily on Jesse once he was standing. He made his way toward the main bathroom and made it inside without mishap.

"I'll be right here when you're…you know," Jesse said as Steve closed the door. He turned to see Mark rubbing his shoulder and knew the physio therapy was rough on him, but it was necessary if he was to regain full use of his arm.

"Where's Amanda?" Mark asked.

"She went home about an hour ago," Jesse answered. "How's the arm?"

"Sore, but manageable," Sloan told him.

"Shouldn't you be using the sling?"

"I just took it off to do the exercises," Mark explained as the door opened. Steve looked paler than ever as he leaned on Jesse and they made their way back to the bed.

"I'd rather watch some TV for a while," Steve said.

"Are you sure, Son?"

"Dad, I've been cooped up in bed for about two weeks and I've probably got bed sores on my bed sores," the officer said and was grateful when Jesse helped him into the living room and settled him on the sofa. "Thanks, Jesse."

"You're welcome," Travis said and reached for the afghan to cover him with.

"Steve, are you hungry?" Mark asked.

"I'm starved…guess I slept through dinner."

"Yes, you did," the elder Sloan told him. "I'll go warm up the casserole…"

"Mark, you sit here with Steve and I'll warm dinner…for both of you," Travis told them before going into the kitchen.

Steve studied his father for several minutes, disliking the new lines he saw in his face. Mark Sloan was good at what he did, but even he could be touched by the 'monsters' of this world. Damian Ryan's anger was misplaced, but Steve new his father always felt guilty when he was unable to save a patient. If he was truthful, Steve would have to admit to his own feelings of guilt when he lost someone he'd tried to save. It was par for the course in both their jobs, but it didn't make it any easier.

"What are you thinking about, Son?"

"Just thinking you need to realize you did everything you could for Brian Johnson," Steve answered softly.

"Did I?"

"Dad, is there anything you could have done differently?"

"No…not that I can think of, but…"

"It hurts when you lose one…especially when they're so young," the younger Sloan finished for him.

"It hurts no matter what age they are, but you're right about him being so young. It's such a waste of the gift God gave us all," Mark told him.

"Yes, it is, but they had a choice, Dad, just like the rest of us. Oh, I'm not saying they didn't have trials to overcome and sometimes that's what makes them who they are, but if they'd asked for help…"

"Sometimes pride makes it hard for people to ask for help, Steve," Mark told him, unconsciously rubbing his shoulder.

Steve didn't miss the grimace of pain, but remained silent as he watched his father. It was at times like this that he looked vulnerable and Steve was not used to thinking that about the man who'd often helped the police solve some hard cases. He looked toward the window and wondered if the police were any closer to finding Damian Ryan and his girlfriend.

"I just hope the police catch them before they hurt anyone else," Mark whispered.

"They'll be caught, Dad," Steve vowed and shifted until he found a comfortable spot.

"Jesse. Can you bring…"

"I have his meds right here, Mark," Jesse said upon entering the living room and placing a tray of food on the coffee table.

"That smells great," Steve said with a hint of a smile.

"Take these, Steve," Jesse ordered and handed the injured man two pills.

"What are they?"

"Percocet," Jesse answered and waited for his friend to pop the pills into his mouth before handing him a glass of water.

"Thanks," Steve said and knew it wouldn't be long before the medication took control of the pain. He sat up, waiting for Jesse to ease his injured leg over the edge and help him sit up. A TV tray was brought closer and the smell of the casserole made his stomach rumble appreciatively.

"So, Steve, how long have you and Connie been seeing each other?" Jesse asked, a mischievous grin on his face.

"A few months," the officer answered honestly.

"When are we goin to get to know her?" Travis asked.

"Oh, I don't know, Jesse," Steve answered with a knowing grin as he turned to his father. "Maybe we could double date with you and Anna, Dad."

"Anna and I aren't seeing each other," Mark said.

"Then why did she make you dinner?" Jesse enquired.

"She said she made too much," Mark tried, but knew he was getting nowhere with the two men. "Why don't we talk to Connie and Anna about it?"

"That sounds great, Dad," Steve readily agreed.

"A father and son double date…that's got to be a first," Travis teased.

"Maybe you could ask one of the nurses out and we could make it a triple date," Mark suggested.

"That's not a bad idea," Travis said.

"Jesse, you know BBQ Bobs isn't an option," Steve said with a soft chuckle.

"Why not…the food is great…best ribs in town," the young doctor said.

"We own the place, Jesse, makes us kind of biased," Steve told him. "Although I have to agree with you about the ribs."

Mark listened to Steve and Jesse talk about plans for a triple date, but his heart wasn't really into it. That wouldn't change until Damian and Tatiana were caught. He sighed heavily, picked at the food on his plate, and silently prayed the police would catch the gang members.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

A week passed without any sign of Damian or Tatiana and Newman was under pressure to reassign the men he had watching the Sloan beach house. The police captain was no willing to admit the gang leader had given up so easily and had spoken with several of Steve Sloan's fellow officers in and effort to keep up the protection, no matter what it cost.

Newman had spoken with Steve Sloan on several occasions, but this time he was making a point of seeing him in person. He parked the car in the driveway and made his way toward the back where he'd seen both Sloans relaxing and enjoying the sunshine. Steve was seated at the table with his injured leg elevated on an ottoman. He still looked pale, but there was no doubt that he was healing.

"Hello, Captain, can I get you something to drink?" Amanda Bentley asked as she walked toward the patio doors.

"No, thank you, Dr. Bentley," Newman said and joined the two men.

"Hello, Captain, is something wrong?" Steve asked.

"You could say that," Newman began. "I've been ordered to remove the officers from surveillance!"

"What? Ryan is still out there and he's going to come after dad!" Steve snapped.

"He's not just after me, Son," the elder Sloan reminded them.

"You're his main target, Dad," Steve said.

"That may be, but he wants to get to me through you," Mark observed.

"Look, this decision doesn't sit well with any of us, and that's why I'm here," Newman told them. "Steve, you and Mark have a lot of friends on the force…including me and none of us wants to see anything happen to you. We're setting up several details and we'll be patrolling the area more frequently."

"Captain, we can't ask you to do this on your own time…"

"Steve, how many times have you and your father done just that without a thought to what could happen? This is our way of saying thank you…so just sit back and accept the help that's offered for what it is," Newman ordered.

"You know, Captain, maybe they did leave town," Steve suggested.

"Do you really believe that, Son?" Mark asked.

"He hasn't called…"

"That doesn't mean he's gone, Steve," Mark interrupted and frowned as he thought about the people who were making his life a living hell. "You know maybe it's time the police did call off the surveillance."

"That's not a good idea, Dr. Sloan," Newman said. "If they're still around they'll know you're vulnerable."

"I'm not saying you call it off for real, but we could set it up so that it looks like I'm alone out here…"

"No way in hell, Dad," Steve snapped. "You're not going to be bait…"

"Steve, it could be the only way to catch them…"

"Should I remind you of something you said a little while ago?" the younger Sloan offered. "Damian wants to get to you through me so if anyone should be alone out here it's me."

"No way…you wouldn't be able to defend yourself!" Mark warned.

"Are you forgetting you're still doing physio for your arm, Dad?"

"I'm not forgetting, Steve, but I can get around and I'm able to defend myself."

"Look, for what it's worth I think the idea has merit…"

"No way, Captain, I'm not leaving Dad here alone!"

"I wouldn't be alone…there'd be officers nearby just waiting for my signal," Mark said.

"No…"

"Steve…"

"No, Dad, but maybe we can use this," the younger Sloan suggested. "Captain, what if whoever was assigned to patrol the area stayed out of sight?"

"Make Damian and Tatiana think you two are alone," Newman said as Amanda Bentley returned with a pitcher of lemonade and glasses.

"What did I miss?" she asked of the serious look on each man's face.

"Dad thinks it's a good idea that we use him as bait," Steve answered.

"No way, Mark, that's not a good idea…"

"That's what I told him," Steve said.

"It's no worse than using you as bait," Newman offered.

"No, but I've had training…"

"True, but that training wasn't intended for an injured man," the captain said. "Look, I don't think either of you is going to agree on who stays or who goes, but the idea does have merit. If we can make Damian believe you two are here alone then we just might have a shot at catching them."

"That's crazy!" Amanda spat.

"It may be, Amanda, but Dad and I are tired of jumping every time we hear a sound outside the house," Steve offered.

"Steve…"

"Dad, we do it together or not at all!" Steve vowed and relaxed in his seat as they talked about putting the plans in action the following night.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Diagnosis-Revenge--- 15

Mark Sloan looked at his sleeping son and knew he would do everything in his power to keep him safe. Jesse had reluctantly left, but there were police officers nearby, ready and willing to do anything to protect their fellow officer. Amanda had called to check on them several times during the morning, and Mark had assured her they were fine.

Steve still looked pale, and although the bruises were fading, Mark knew it would be some time before his son was able to go back to his job. The leg alone would keep him down for several months because he would need therapy to regain the strength he'd lost.

The elder Sloan walked to the patio doors and looked out at the ocean. He loved it here, and was grateful Steve had taken him up on the offer to move into the basement apartment. They each had their own privacy, and things worked out very well for them both. Mark sighed tiredly and turned to see Steve watching him.

"Is everything okay, Dad?"

"Everything's fine, Steve, are you hungry?"

"A little," the younger man answered.

"What would you like?"

"Maybe just warm up some soup…or a sandwich," Steve suggested.

"Soup and sandwich it is," Mark said and left his son alone.

Steve sat back and glanced at the clock above the TV. It was a little after one and he'd been asleep since nine in the morning. He knew it was a combination of medication and his own body's natural healing process. He shifted slightly, wincing when the movement set off a tremor of pain through his leg. "Damn it," he softly cursed and ignored the pain as he eased his leg over the edge and sat up.

"Steve, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, dad, just moved the wrong way," Steve answered honestly as his father returned with a tray of food.

"You should have waited until I came back!" Mark lightly scolded as he moved the coffee table closer.

"You've got a bum arm, Dad," the cop said with a grin. "Between us we probably don't have a healthy body."

"Probably not, but at least we're alive and I plan on keeping it that way!" Mark vowed and handed his son several pills. "Take these."

"I'll take the antibiotics, but not the Tylenol, Dad," Steve said.

"Steve, they'll help with the pain."

"I know, but they'll also make me woozy and I need to stay clear headed if Damian and Tatiana show up," Steve told him.

"Steve…"

"Dad, we're in this together and we both need to keep our wits about us. I'll take the Tylenol and sleep for a week once this is all over."

"I'll hold you to that, Son," Mark said and reluctantly put the pain medication away and glanced at the window as the curtains were lifted by the soft ocean breeze. "They're close, Steve…"

"I know…I feel it too," Steve agreed as he lifted the cup of soup to his mouth and sipped the savory broth. He could feel his father beside him and gained strength knowing he was there. Together they would defeat Damian and Tatiana and make sure they didn't hurt anyone else.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

Damian knew the instant the cops backed off and hadn't needed the official report given by the anchorman on the six o'clock news. Tonight Mark and Steve Sloan would be alone at the beach house and they would pay for what they'd cost him. He turned to find Tatiana watching him and smiled as he pulled her close. "Tonight, Tati, me and you make the Sloan's pay," he vowed.

"Are you sure they're alone, Damian? Couldn't this be an ambush?"

"Maybe, but we're smarter than they are. We wait until they go to bed before we move in."

"How will we know they're sleeping?"

"That cop…he'll be taking medication for pain and that'll make him groggy. I'm sure his old man will insist on him going to bed and that leaves just him to deal with. We wait until all the lights are off and give them a couple of hours to get into a deep sleep and that's when we make our move. The Sloans are about to find out they pissed off the wrong man," Damian explained and roughly kissed her before dragging her toward the bedroom.

"Can I kill the cop?" Tatiana asked excitedly.

"Sure, but it has to be nice and slow so daddy suffers. Do you think you can handle that?" Damian asked with a grin.

"I'll cut him nice and slow Damian…I'll make him bleed…I'll make him beg…"

"Make sure he does, Tati," Damian said, his eyes dark with need as he pushed her down on the mattress and reached for the bottle of liquor before lying down beside her. "We kill the Sloans and we leave this damn city."

"Where will we go?"

"Maybe New York…there's always something big happening there," Damian said and smiled at the thought of making a name for himself on the streets of The Big Apple.

**DMDMDMDMDMDM **

The sky had grown dark with the onset of night as a full bodied moon reflected off the near perfect surface of the ocean. Two men remained awake as they waited for anything out of the ordinary. There was no doubt in their mind that Damian and Tatiana would make their move, it was simply a matter of when it would happen.

Steve had slept through most of the afternoon, yet he still felt as if he could sleep for a week. His father was asleep on the sofa while he sat in the recliner with his leg propped up on an ottoman. He reached for the glass on the table and frowned when he realized it was empty. He glanced at Mark and debated about waking him, but decided against it when Mark's face showed him sleeping peacefully without the evidence that often accompanied nightmares.

Steve glanced at the clock and noted the time was just after 11PM and flicked off the TV. If they were going to do this they had to make it look like they were sleeping. Steve glanced at his father and reluctantly called to him. "Dad."

"Huh," Mark mumbled and opened his eyes. He glanced at his son, then he clock, and finally back to Steve. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I figured you could use the sleep," Steve answered.

"We need to be ready for them," Mark said.

"That's what I figured," the cop answered. "There are four officers watching the house and we've set up a silent alarm if anything happens. All it takes is for one of us to push the button and Newman will move in."

"Where's the button?" Mark asked.

"Hidden in here," Steve answered indicating his sling.

"Steve, if they find it they'll…"

"Kill me…I think that's what they're planning anyway, Dad. This just gives us a fighting chance…unless you want to call this off right now."

"No, neither one of us can go on like this…not knowing where or when they'll attack," Mark said tiredly. "What do we do now?"

"Pretend to go to bed and sleep," Steve answered.

"All right…let's get you into bed," Mark offered.

"I think I'd prefer to sleep on the couch…make it look like I fell asleep watching TV," Steve told him.

"Steve…"

"Dad, it's the best way because if I'm in the bed it's going to be next to impossible for me to help you when the time comes. At least if I'm sitting up out here I'll have a chance to use this," Steve said and showed his father his gun. He'd tucked it under one of the pillows while his father slept and it was easily accessible if he needed to get to it quickly.

"Maybe we should just call this off."

"And do what? Hide out until they make a move?" the younger Sloan asked. "That's not who we are, Dad."

"I know, but you've already been hurt."

"So have you, but just because we're down doesn't mean we're out," Steve said with a hint of a smile. "We'll catch them and when we do I'm going to invite Connie over for dinner and I'm hoping you'll invite Anna."

"A double date?"

"Sure sounds like it to me," Steve said. "Now why don't you go on to bed and maybe we can end this early and get a good night's sleep?"

"I wish," Mark said, reluctantly leaving his son alone while he went into his bedroom. He knew this was the best way to force Damian and Tatiana to show their hand, but it was dangerous as hell and could easily end badly. He took another glance over his shoulder as his son slowly flipped through the channels and silently said a prayer that they would have the strength to see this through.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Walter Newman was not here as a cop, but as a friend and fellow officer who hoped to protect an injured colleague. There were six of them parked at different intervals along the driveway and he prayed they'd catch Damian and Tatiana before they got anywhere near the Sloans.

"Bill, anything happening at your end?"

"Negative, Captain," William Aniston answered. "It looks like Steve and his father have gone to bed."

"Don't kid yourself…the lights may be out, but the Sloans are wide awake and ready for anything."

"Do you really think Ryan and his girlfriend are stupid enough to make a move tonight?"

"Stupid, no…desperate, yes," Newman told him. "Damian blames Mark Sloan for Johnson's death and he's vowed to make him pay through Steve. Damian probably figures they'll be easier to handle with Steve laid up."

"He's in for a rude awakening."

"Just don't go doing anything stupid before they get here," Newman warned and continued to watch the road leading up to the main house.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark lay awake in the bed, eyes open and staring at the ceiling as he listened to the familiar sounds from his house. There were several creaks that he'd associated with the silence and the flowers growing on his patio, but other than that there seemed to be nothing happened. He glanced sideways and looked out the window, anxious to see the first rays of dawn, and yet he knew that sunrise was still hours away.

Mark fought the urge to check on Steve, but listened for any sound that his son was still awake. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his neck with his left hand while a night bird whistled in the nearby trees. He felt cut off from everyone, except his son, yet there was nothing more he could do until Damian and Tatiana showed themselves. God, he could use a stiff drink right now, but he needed to keep his wits about him.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Damian smiled as he watched the house, relieved when there was no movement from the inside. He motioned for Tatiana to follow him and made their way toward the patio. He held up his hand and waited, listening to anything that might indicate there were others present. A sound to his right alerted him to the fact that they were far from alone and he placed a finger to his lips and made sure Tatiana knew to be quiet.

Tatiana watched as Damian moved through the brush without making a sound. She hadn't heard anything, but if Damian thought something was wring she believed him. She had no idea how much time passed before she heard a muffled grunt and the sound of footsteps approaching her position. She stayed far enough back that no one would see her, smiling when she hear Damian softly call her name.

"Tati?"

"Here," she whispered as he joined her.

"The Sloans think they're so damn smart, but they're not."

"Who was it?"

"Probably a cop, but he won't be any help to them two," Damian told her and showed her the gun he'd taken once he'd rendered the man unconscious.

"It's time to party," Tatiana said and followed Damian toward the beach house.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve shifted slightly and made sure his gun was within reach as the minutes ticked off. The clock seemed unusually loud, yet he knew it made the same sound it always did. His leg was itching and he reached for the ruler and slid it beneath the cast, sighing as it brought some relief.

"Steve, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Dad, thought you were sleeping."

"Not likely," Mark answered and looked at the clock. With each passing minute he'd felt the tension drain away and hoped they were wrong about Damian and Tatiana. Sure, he wanted them caught, but with Steve not even close to 100%, he didn't want the gang leader and his girl showing up. "Do you need anything?"

"Might as well make a trip to the bathroom while you're up," the younger man said and was glad of his father's support as they made their way across the living room.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Damian signaled for Tatiana to be quiet as he moved to the patio doors. They were closed and locked, but the blinds were open and he could just make out the furniture. "We need to find another way in."

"Damian, maybe we should wait a little longer?"

"We've waited long enough, Tati," the gang leader softly spat as he dragged her toward a partially open window. Years of honing his skills made it a simple matter for him to reach inside and lift the safety latch high enough for him to lift the window and allow Tatiana to slip inside. "Do you hear anything?"

"No, I think they must be sleeping," Tatiana whispered.

"Good," Damian said when she lifted the window and he was able to slip inside. He reached inside his shirt and pulled out his gun as he made his way toward the only door. The Sloans were about to find out he was not a man to lay down like a dog. He smiled as the light from the open window glinted off the nasty looking knife Tatiana held in her right hand.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve reached for the wall and felt unbalanced as Mark released his hold. He cried out as the movement pulled in his injured arm and heard a second cry from his father as they both wavered and nearly fell. His eyes shot open when he heard a sound behind him and he realized he'd left his weapon under the pillow.

"Well look at that, Tatiana, don't they make a handsome couple?"

"A bit old for me, but there's no accounting for taste."

Steve tried to pull away from his father, but Damian's next warning was enough to make him stop.

"Do it, Cop, and dear old dad will have a third eye."

"Oh, Damian, you're so funny," Tatiana offered as she brandished the knife toward the two men.

"Okay, Dr. Sloan, why don't you help your cop son get comfortable…it's going to be a long…painful night for both of you," Damian vowed. "Put him in that chair."

"He should be lying down…"

"Not anymore...do as I say now!" Damian ordered.

"It's okay, Dad," Steve said as Mark helped him toward the chair by the sofa.

"No, I've changed my mind…Tati, bring one of the chairs from the kitchen!"

"Sure, Damian," Tatiana said and hurried to carry out his order.

"Now, Cop, here's what we're going to do," Damian began as Tatiana returned with the high backed chair. "You're going to sit down and dead old dad is going to tie your arms behind your back…

"No, his arm needs to stay in the sling," Mark snapped.

"Don't mess with me, Dr. Sloan," Damian spat and shoved his gun beneath the Steve's chin. "Do as I say or I kill him right now."

"It's okay, Dad," Steve managed and struggled out of Damian's grip. He staggered and nearly fell as he reached into the sling and pressed the silent alarm that would signal Newman and the others.

"Leave him alone!" Mark shouted as Damian kicked his son in the ribs. The El Diablo gang leader stood up and struck Mark's injured shoulder before ramming the gun into his stomach.

"I should kill him right now!"

"No, you promised, Damian!" Tatiana said and pulled at Steve's injured arm, frowning when something dropped out of the sling. "Damian, you gotta see this!"

"What is it, Tati?"

"I don't know, but the cop," she kicked Steve again as she handed Damian the device. "Was wired!"

"What? Sonofab…" Damian spat, shoving Mark across the room before kneeling in front of Steve. "Is she right, Cop? Did you signal your friend? Well he's not gonna answer because I killed him! Get him in the chair, Dr. Sloan!"

Mark moved to help his son into the chair Tatiana had brought from the kitchen and knew Steve had indeed contacted the outside world. He prayed Damian lied about killing one of the policemen, but somehow he doubted it very much.

"Where do you keep the tape, Dr. Sloan?" Damian asked.

"There's tape in the middle drawer in the kitchen," Mark answered.

"Not that kind of tape…we need duct tape for the tough guy there!" Damian said, waving his gun in front of the two men. "Or I could just finish him now and be done with him."

"No, there's a roll in the pantry," Mark answered, praying Steve's colleagues were closing in on the house.

"Get it, Tati," Damian ordered and waited for the woman to return. HE watched as the elder man checked his son and chuckled sadistically at being privy to the tender moment.

"I got it, Damian!"

"Good, give it to, Dr. Sloan," the gang leader ordered. "Now, Doc, whether he lives or dies depends entirely on you. Cop, your dear old dad's life depends on you doing exactly what I say. Put your arms behind your back!"

Steve did as he was told, hiding the pain the move caused until he felt his father wrapping tape around his wrists. He kept his eyes on Damian as the man seemed to take perverse pleasure in tormenting his father.

"Very well, Dr. Sloan…Tatiana, would you make sure Officer Sloan can't make any noise?"

"Sure, Damian," Tatiana said and quickly cut off a piece of tape and stretched it across Steve's mouth.

"Now, Dr. Sloan, why don't you come sit right here so you can have a bird's eye view of Tatiana's skill with a knife?"

"No, don't do this!" Mark begged.

"Don't make me shoot him now!" Damian warned and smiled when Mark Sloan reluctantly sat on the sofa next to him. "That's better…okay, Tatiana, he's al yours!"

Steve sucked air through his nose as the tip of the blade was pressed against his abdomen and cut into his skin. His eyes met his fathers and he prayed Mark remembered the gun he'd placed beneath the pillow. It could very well mean their life or death.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Diagnosis-Revenge--- 16

Walter Newman signaled knew his men understood exactly what was expected of them, but there were still way to many variables for him to relax. Steve's signal warned them that Damian and Tatiana had made their move, and that put them all on the offensive. It was now up to him and the other officers to get the Sloans out of this, but, not for the first time, he wished they'd found another way to capture the remaining members of El Diablo.

"Captain, there's no answer from Aniston," Phillip Jacobs whispered as they moved closer to the house.

"Damn…have Carlyle check it out," Newman said. He watched the Sloan house and had noticed the lights in the main room were burning brightly, but could not see inside because the heavy drapes were closed. He motioned for two uniformed officers to go around back while he continued to make his way closer to the front windows.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

"Now, Tati, don't kill him too fast or Dr. Sloan will be disappointed," Damian warned as blood welled up around the knife protruding from Steve Sloan's left side.

"But he bleeds so well…"

"That he does, but I would have thought it would be yellow like all cops!" Damian said and glanced sideways at the elder Sloan. "What do you think, Doc? Can he take much more or is he a coward?"

Steve heard the man taunting his father and wished there was something he could do to ease his mind, but Tatiana would not let up on what she was doing to him. He could see his father as if through a veil of red lace as she slowly, methodically made an incision just below his navel. Steve sucked in air through his nostrils as he fought the nausea churning through his gut.

"Stop…it's me you…"

"That it is, Doc, but it's a lot more fun watching you watch him suffer," Damian said, a malicious grin on his face. He stood up and walked toward Steve until he stood behind the chair. "You know, Doc, I've always wanted to carve up a pig…just never thought t would be a real live cop."

"You're a sick…"

"Better watch it, Doc, or I'll have Tati cut out your son's tongue and feed it to the fishies," Damian spat.

Steve twisted away from the knife in Tatiana's hand, but could not move very far as she drove it deeper into his side. His cries were muffled behind the duct tape and he prayed his father would use the gun and save himself before it was too late.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Newman flattened himself against the outer wall as two uniformed cops moved to either side of the main door. He signaled for them to be quiet and listened for any sound from inside the Sloan residence. Muffled voices could be heard, but he had no way of making sense of what was being said.

"Captain, we need to do something," Jacobs said just as the radio signaled an incoming call. He pressed the button and listened as an officer spoke softly.

"Captain, we found Aniston…"

"Is he all right?"

"No, Sir, he's been stabbed…I called an ambulance."

"Good work…stay with him and do what you can for him," Newman said, silently cursing the two people who held the Sloan's captive. "Miller, go around back and let me know if you can see anything."

"Yes, Sir," Miller agreed and hurried around the side of the house.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark watched Damian and Tatiana and slowly slipped his hand under the pillow as Tatiana raised the knife once more. His fingers curled around the handle of the gun and he felt his heart beat faster as he watched Damian smiling at the woman who was ready to plunge a knife into his son's heart.

Mark's eyes met Steve's and he saw the quick dip of his son's head before he leveled the weapon at Tatiana. He knew he didn't have much time as she began to laugh and he stared, as if hypnotized as a single drop of bright red blood dripped from the tip of the blade. He didn't think, he just reacted to the danger to his son as he fired the unfamiliar weapon in his hand.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Newman cursed at the sound of the gunshot from inside the house and reached for the handle. The door was locked and he signaled for one of the officers to break it down as raised voices reached their ears. He entered the house, diving to the right as a bullet struck the window and shattered the glass. Instincts kicked in as he took in the scene before him.

Mark Sloan held a gun in front of him and covering a young male whose face was contorted in anger. Steve Sloan was slumped in a chair, blood dripping from several wounds. A young woman lay on her back at his feet, eyes open and unseeing as blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

"You killed her…"

"Drop the gun!" Newman ordered.

"I'll kill…"

Newman reacted instantly as Damian's finger moved as if ready to take a shot. His bullet slammed into the young man's arm, deflecting it so that the bullet drilled into the wall near the television. He moved forward as Mark Sloan dropped his gun and moved to his son.

"Steve," Mark said as he removed the tape from the younger man's mouth.

"You o…okay, Dad?"

"I'm fine, Steve," Mark said, forcing back the emotions as he realized Steve needed a doctor more than he needed his father. "Help me get him out of this chair!"

"An ambulance is on the way, Dr. Sloan," Newman explained as he cut through the bindings around Steve's wrists.

"Help me get him on the floor," the physician ordered. "I need my bag…"

"Where is it?"

"My bedroom…second door on the right," the elder Sloan offered.

"Mark…"

"Jesse, in here!" Mark called, relieved when the younger man rushed inside. "I don't know how you got here so fast, but I've n ever been so glad to see anyone."

"Amanda and I…we waited down the road a ways…what do we have?" Jesse asked as Amanda reached their side.

"He has several lacerations on his abdomen," Mark explained as Newman returned with his bag. He could hear Damian screaming in outrage, but he ignored it as he turned his attention to helping his son.

Amanda busied herself with opening packages of sterilized bandages and pressing them against the wound below Steve Sloan's navel. She hoped the wounds weren't serious, but knew they had to worry about blood loss after her friend's recent encounter with Damian Ryan.

"Doc, can I use one of those bandages?" Newman asked.

Mark wanted to say no, but he knew that would go against everything he'd been taught from the moment he'd decided to go into medicine. He tossed the officer a couple of sealed packages and returned his attention to his son.

"Jesse, stay with Mark and Steve…I'm going to take a look at him," Amanda said, reluctantly leaving her friends.

"Easy, Steve," Jesse said.

"Dr. Travis?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"We've got a man down out back…"

"Go, Jesse," Mark ordered.

"Are you sure?" Jesse asked as the sound of an ambulance reached his ears.

"Go," Steve managed as his father wiped the blood from his abdomen.

"Look, Bit…"

"Shut up," Newman ordered and reached for the roll of tape on the table, glad they'd secured Ryan's hands behind his back in spite of his wound.

"You wouldn't!"

"Don't bet on it!" the police captain warned and smiled chillingly at the wounded criminal.

"You should arrest the doc…he shot Tati!" Damian spat, crying out when Amanda none to gently slapped a bandage on the wound to his shoulder. "Watch it…that hurts!"

"Good," Amanda said angrily. She prided herself on holding tight to her emotions, but this was too much. Steve and Mark Sloan had suffered because of this gang and especially from El Diablo's self proclaimed leader. Now Steve faced more hospital time because of Damian and Tatiana, making it next to impossible for her to feel anything but disdain for both of them.

"Are you a doctor or a quack?" Damian spat.

"I'm a doctor, but right now I don't feel much like helping you!" Amanda said, securing the bandage before returning to the others. "How is he?"

"I'm okay, Amanda," the younger Sloan answered as two men hurried in with a stretcher and emergency equipment.

"Steve, I'm going to give you a shot to help with the pain," Jesse advised and watched as Amanda started an IV. He quickly injected the morphine and watched as the lines of pain eased with the medication.

"Thanks," Steve said and turned to watch his father. He could tell how hard this had been on the older man by the slump of his shoulders and the look of sadness in his eyes. He didn't miss the heavy sigh when Mark glanced at the Tatiana's partially covered body. "Dad, you did what you had to do…you saved my life."

"I know, Son, and I don't regret that, but it's just….such a waste of life," Mark told him. "Let's get him to the hospital."

Between them they managed to get Steve loaded onto the stretcher and Mark walked beside him until they reached the ambulance. There were two now, the first one pulling out with the officer who'd been injured while watching the house.

"Jesse, I'm going to ride in with Steve," Mark said as Travis climbed in beside him.

"All right, Mark," Jesse said, worried about how pale Mark Sloan appeared.

"I'll be right behind you," Amanda told them.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark knew he was running on adrenalin alone, but until he knew how his son was doing he wasn't going anywhere. He'd wanted to stay with Steve, but Jesse had asked him to wait outside until they knew exactly what they were dealing with. Mark had wanted to argue, but he knew it would only delay Steve getting the attention he needed.

"Here, Mark," Amanda said and handed him a cup of coffee laced with sugar.

"Thanks, Amanda."

"Has there been any word?"

"Not yet…Jesse's in there with him and I didn't want to take him away from Steve."

"Mark, Steve's going to be all right."

"I know he will," the elder Sloan said as he looked at the officer standing guard outside treatment room three. He knew Damian Ryan was being treated in there and fought the urge to check on him because he knew it would not do his blood pressure any good. He sipped at the coffee and returned his attention to the room housing his son. "What's taking so long?"

"You know Jesse's making sure he's doing everything he's supposed to, Mark. He'll come out as soon as he has an idea what he's dealing with."

"I know…I just wish…" Mark said, standing when he noticed the door open and his colleague stepped out of the room. "Jesse, how is he?"

"He's going to be okay, Mark. His vitals are stable and that's a good sign. It took some fancy stitches, but we closed up the wounds and started him on some IV antibiotics. He's also getting a blood transfusion while we wait for a room upstairs," Jesse explained.

"Can I see him?" the older man asked worriedly.

"Of course and I'm requesting he be placed in a semi private room so you can take advantage of the extra bed," Jesse said.

"Thanks, Jesse," Mark said and walked toward the door, not even realizing he'd passed the empty cup to Amanda. He entered the room and smiled at the nurse who was checking the leads attached to his son. Steve's face was washed out pale and his eyes were closed, yet Mark knew he wasn't sleeping.

"Dad?" Steve said and slowly opened his eyes.

"How do you feel, Son?"

"I'm okay, Dad, did Jesse say when I can get out of here?"

"Not exactly, but it won't be tonight…or should I say this morning," Mark corrected and rubbed at tired eyes.

"Jesse told me Tatiana is dead and Damian is being treated for a gunshot wound…are you all right, Dad?"

"I'm a doctor, Steve….I'm supposed to save lives not take them," the elder Sloan told him.

"Dad, you didn't have a choice," Steve said and wished he could erase the lines of pain etched into his father's face. "They would have killed us."

"I know…and I don't regret what I did, but it goes against everything I believe in," the older man said.

"Dad, as long as there are people like Damian and Tatiana we'll be forced to do thing we don't want to," Steve said tiredly.

"I know…you should be sleeping," Mark said, relieved when his son's eyes finally closed and he seemed to drift toward sleep. He pulled a chair closer to the bed and swallowed the painful lump that formed in his throat. God, he felt drained as he ran his fingers through his son's hair.

"Mark, can I come in?"

Mark turned and smiled at the woman standing in the doorway. "Of course, Anna."

"I just heard about what happened. How are you?"

"I'm fine, but Steve's going to be a guest here for a day or two."

"Dr. Travis told me he'd been hurt…"

"God, I forgot to call Connie," Sloan told her.

"Dr. Sloan, they have a room ready for him," Jenna Norris said as she and an orderly entered the room.

"What's his room number?"

"He'll be in 212," the nurse answered.

"Mark, why don't you call Connie and meet us upstairs," Anna offered. "He won't even know you're gone."

Mark nodded and hurried out to the main desk to place the call. He knew Connie Evans would be worried, but felt he needed to let her know what had happened. He reached for the phone just as a commotion erupted behind him.

"He's a murderer…why don't you arrest him?" Damian snarled.

"Shut up, Ryan," one of the uniformed officers warned and shoved the man toward the exit doors. "Sorry, Dr. Sloan."

"Just get that animal out of my hospital!" Mark spat as he lifted the phone and dropped it in frustration when he realized he had no idea what her number was. He'd have to wait until Steve was awake top find out or speak with Captain Newman about the woman. He made his way to 212 just as the nurse finished checking his son's vitals.

"His readings are good, Dr. Sloan," the woman said and motioned to the other bed. "Why don't you get some rest?"

"I will…thank you," Mark said and smiled as Anna Downey joined him.

"Mark, take advantage of the time he sleeps," the woman said.

"I will, Anna." The elder Sloan said.

"Mark," Downey said and placed her hands on her hips as she waited for him to look at her. "You're exhausted and might I remind you that you were also a recent patient here and if I have to pull rank I'll see to it that Dr. Travis puts you through the proverbial ringer. Bed…now!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Mark said, glancing at the monitors before making his way to the bed. He lay down on top of the blankets and soon felt his eyelids closing as Anna covered him with a light sheet.

"Try not to worry, Mark, he's got his father's stubborn streak," Anna said before closing the drapes over the windows and leaving the two men alone.

Mark watched Steve sleeping before finally giving in to the physical and emotional blows he'd been dealt. He never heard the door open or saw the hint of a smile as Anna Downey eased the door shut.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

Diagnosis-Revenge--- 17

Steve opened his eyes and wondered why it felt like his body was weighted down with rocks. A soft sound to his right caught his attention and he turned his head in that direction. He frowned when he saw the man sleeping in the next bed and prayed he was all right. He heard the door open and focused on the man who stepped inside the room.

Steve knew how hard the last few weeks were on his father, but what scared the hell out of him was knowing the inner turmoil he would go through over Tatiana's death. Mark Sloan was a man who thrived on saving lives, and taking one no matter what the reason would affect him. Steve vowed to be there for him no matter what happened and hoped he could get his father to open up to him.

"Steve, he's all right," Travis assured him.

"He looks like hell, Jesse," Steve observed and tried to find a more comfortable spot.

"He's been through a lot…you both have, but you'll be fine as long as you…"

"Do as you say," Steve whispered with a hint of a smile.

"Exactly," Travis said and checked the monitors, frowning at the elevated temperature. "How do you feel, Steve?"

"If I said I was fine you…"

"Wouldn't believe it for a minute," the physician said honestly.

"I'm sore…"

"That's what we call an understatement," Jesse said and checked his friend's wounds before carefully replacing the blanket.

"Any chance I can have something to eat?" Steve asked.

"I think that could be arranged, but don't expect anything fancy."

"Jesse, it's a hospital…I never expect anything fancy," the cop said with a grin. He knew he had a reputation with the staff and his secret taste for hospital food was no longer a secret.

"Is there anything I can get you before I head out?"

"No…did anyone call Connie?"

"Your dad was going to, but he felt asleep and I didn't want to wake him. If you give me the number I'll call her for you," Jesse vowed and wrote down the number Steve gave him. "Steve, try not to worry about Mark…he'll be fine once he knows you're okay."

"Sure, Jesse, how long before I get out of here?"

"Give it a few days," Travis ordered and left the two men alone. Steve watched his father for several minutes before closing his eyes and giving in to the need for rest.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Mark felt better once he had a shower and was dressed in the clothes Jesse Travis brought in for him. Steve had been sleeping when he left the room and Mark knew it had to do with the medications he was taking. Anna had been in and told him his son had managed to eat some lunch before fatigue won out and he'd given in to the need for sleep.

Mark checked on several patients, relieved to find they were doing far better than he expected and even signed a couple of discharge papers before making his way to the small chapel on the first floor. It was a non denominational chapel and was used by patients and family anytime of the day or night.

Mark was glad it was deserted this time and moved to the front of the chapel and sat down. He closed his eyes and thought about the last few weeks and everything they'd gone through. El Diablo was no longer a threat with most of the gang under arrest or in the morgue. His thoughts turned to the young woman whose life he'd taken and he felt tears slip past his closed eyelids.

"I'm sorry…I know she hurt a lot of people, but she was still one of your children and I…I killed her," the elder Sloan whispered past the lump that threatened to choke him. "I swore to save lives, not take them, but she was going to…going to kill my son and I couldn't let her do that. I'm not sorry she's dead because at least she won't be hurting anyone else…"

Mark felt his shoulders slump and a soft sob escaped as someone sat beside him and pulled him close. He knew it was Amanda Bentley and felt tissues pressed into his hand as she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Mark, it wasn't your fault. Tatiana chose how she lived her life and she would have killed you and Steve in a heartbeat."

"I know, but it doesn't change the fact that I killed her…I could have shot her in the arm."

"You can't second guess yourself, Mark…from what I heard she nearly killed Steve. You acted on instinct and you saved Steve's life."

"I know you're right, Amanda," the older man said softly. "I just have to keep telling myself that I had no choice and hope she's at peace now."

"She is, Mark," Amanda said. "Would you like to say a prayer for her?"

"Yes, I'd like that," Mark said and smiled warmly at the younger woman as she began to speak.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Connie Evans stood outside the room for several minutes before pushing it open and stepping inside. She watched the man for several minutes, wishing she could wipe away the lines of fatigue she saw there. The call from Jesse Travis had filled her with fear and she needed to see for herself that he was all right. Mark was outside, enjoying the sunshine, but she knew he wouldn't stay away from his son very long.

"Are you coming in or are you going to stand there all day? Not that I mind the view," Steve said with a smile.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Connie said as she moved closer to the bed.

"You didn't…it's hard to sleep when the bed's so hard," the officer told her and reached out to pull her down to him. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Evans said. "When Jesse called I thought…I didn't…"

"I'm okay, Connie," Sloan told her and held her close. "I'll be out of here in a couple of days."

"Steve…God I was so scared," Evans told him. "I know it's a very real part of your job, and I love that you're so willing to protect people…even though you don't know them, but sometimes…when the phone rings I'm afraid to answer it."

"Connie, I'm sorry…"

"Don't apologize for doing what you do, Steve, that's not what I want. I just need you to understand what it does to me…what you mean to me and how much it hurts to see you like this," Evans told him.

"Connie…"

"Sh," she whispered and brushed her lips against his before looking into his eyes. "Deep down I know why you do this, Steve, but I wasn't even sure I would come here today…but my heart had other ideas. I think I'm falling in love with you and that scares the hell out of me…"

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be…you're a cop…a damn good one and I wouldn't change that because that would be changing who you are. I want to find out if I can live with the dangers of your job, Steve, and I hope you'll let me…"

"God, yes, Connie," Steve told her.

"I've got some vacation time coming and I'd like to take it and help you…"

"You don't have to…"

"I know I don't have to, but I want to," Evans told him as a soft knock sounded on the door and she shifted slightly so she could see who it was.

"Hello, Connie."

"Hello, Dr. Sloan…"

"Please, call me Mark," the elder Sloan ordered and moved to study his son's face. For the first time in the last few weeks, Steve's face was remarkably relaxed in spite of the fever. "You look better…"

"You look like hell, Dad," Steve said seriously. "Why don't you go home and get some sleep?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No, I was hoping you'd take me with you," Steve said with a grin.

"Not a chance, Son…Anna's on duty and you know what would happen if I tried to help you escape…"

"I'm not sure what Anna would do, but I do know where to get my hands on some restraints," Connie warned.

"Damn, I thought you were on my side and we could have some quiet time…"

"Not today I'm not," Connie told him. "I have to go into the office fro a couple of hours, but I'll be back later, Steve."

"Looking forward to it," Steve said with a smile.

"I take it you two are really getting serious…maybe there is hope for some grandkids yet," Mark said.

"Now, Dad, it's a little early to talk about grandkids…we're not even engaged…"

"I have a feeling she'd say yes if you asked her," the elder Sloan said seriously.

"Maybe, but I want to wait until I can do it properly," Steve said and looked at his father closely. "Dad, are you all right?"

"Not really, but I will be. I just need to come to terms with what I did…"

"What you did was save my life, Dad, and in case I didn't say it before…thank you."

"You're welcome," Mark told him.

"So…did you talk to Jesse about me getting out of here?"

"No, and I'm not going to. You're hurt, Steve, and you need to be here…"

"Okay, but you don't," the injured officer said. "Look, Dad, they're giving me heavy drugs and all I'm going to do is sleep, so one of us might as well be comfortable."

"I guess you're in good hands…"

"Yes, he is," Anna Downey said from the open doorway. She pushed a small cart toward the bed and smiled at her patient before turning her attention to his father. "Mark, I know you've been here with Steve the last couple of days, and I think he's right about you going home and sleeping in your own bed…I could stop by and bring dinner."

"If dad doesn't take you up on the offer…I will," Steve told her.

"Are you flirting with my date, Son?"

"Not if you're smart enough to go home with her," the younger man said.

"All right…I give," Mark said. "Steve, if you need anything…"

"I'll call, Dad," Steve said as the nurse began taking his vitals.

"Anna, I'll see you tonight," Mark said.

"Around six?"

"Sounds good. Steve, behave," the elder Sloan said.

"That'll be the day," the nurse teased and walked him to the door. "I'll take good care of him, Mark."

"I know you will…see you tonight."

"I'll be there," Anna said and watched him go; admiring the way the man looked after himself. She turned back to her patient and noted the mask of pain that shone on his face now that he thought no one was watching him. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

"I don't feel very strong right now."

"That's understandable considering everything you've been through," the nurse explained sympathetically as she touched her fingers against his forehead.

"Is that the new way to check for fever?"

"No, but I've always been a hands on girl and I doubt that'll ever change. Now, you still have a fever, but it doesn't seem as high as it was so I want you to close your eyes and go to sleep. I'll check on you again before I leave for the day."

"Thanks, Anna, and thanks for getting dad to go home," Steve said and watched her leave, glad that his father had agreed to have her join him for dinner.

"My pleasure," Downey said and plumped the pillows behind his head. "Now, you hit that button if you need anything…how long as it been since you've had something for pain?"

"I don't know…couple of hours," Steve answered sheepishly.

"Try six hours," Downey said and reached for the syringe she'd brought with her. "This will ease the pain and help you sleep. I'll take care of your father, but for now I need to take care of you."

"Thanks, Anna, and they're wrong you know?"

"Who's wrong?"

"Everyone who calls you a tyrant…you're more like a pussy cat."

"Unless I'm riled…then you'd better watch out for my claws," Anna warned before leaving the room and turning out the light.

Steve settled back against the pillows and smiled at the thought of this woman taking care of his father. He'd love to be a fly on the wall during their 'date', but he wasn't sure he could handle that kind of information. It wasn't long before his eyes closed and he slept.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

Diagnosis-Revenge--- 18

Steve Sloan had never been so glad to see his home, and sighed heavily as he leaned on the crutches tucked beneath his arms. He'd spent nearly two weeks in the hospital and had finally convinced his father and Jesse that he'd rest better in his own bed. The reason for the lengthy stay was an infection in the wound Tatiana had made and it had made it necessary for him to be on strong IV antibiotics. Connie had visited him every day and that was the one thing, besides the food, that he was going to miss. He knew she could not get to the beach house every day, but she'd promised to call and she'd be there when she could.

"Steve, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, dad, just glad to be home. Smell that air," the younger Sloan answered and leaned against the car as his father took his bag from the trunk.

"It is wonderful…come on, let's get you inside and settled…"

"I'd rather sit out back and enjoy the sun," Steve told him.

"I think that can be arranged, but you need to keep your leg elevated," Mark warned and led the way into the house. "Is there anything special you'd like for dinner?"

"How about BBQ steaks and your famous potato salad?"

"I think we can manage that…do you feel like some company?"

"Why not…Anna?" Steve asked of the woman Mark was now seeing exclusively.

"Anna's working tonight, but Jesse and Amanda said they stop by."

"Tell Amanda to bring a chocolate cake and it's a deal," Steve said.

"She'll think that's the only reason we invite her."

"Not really, but it's a good incentive," the younger man teased.

"I'll give them a call, but for now you go on out back and I'll bring you your meds and some lemonade," Mark told him.

"Sounds good, thanks, Dad," Steve said and leaned on his crutches as he made his way toward the patio doors. His leg ached, but the worst part was the itch he could quite reach and had taken to using anything to get under the cast. He smiled when he spotted a chair already set for him with a cushion covered stool waiting for him to rest his leg on. Shaking his head at how easily his father could read him, Steve eased down on the chair, placed his crutches beside him and lifted his injured leg onto the cushion.

Steve closed his eyes and allowed the sun to warm him as he listened to the waves lapping at the shore. The squawk of a gull added to the feeling of being home, and he rested his head back as he soaked in the feelings racing through him. _'No place like home,'_ he thought as he heard his father join him.

"Son, you need to take these," the elder Sloan ordered and held out three pills for the younger man, relieved when Steve took them with only a token fight.

"So, are Amanda and Jesse joining us?"

"Yes, and Amanda said to tell you the cake is in the oven," Mark said with a grin.

"A woman after my own heart," Steve said and watched his father closely as Mark's eyes were filled with a deep sadness that worried him. He knew his father was still beating himself up over Tatiana's death, and he knew it was time to get things out in the open. "Dad, in case I forgot to say thanks I'm saying it now."

"For what?" Mark asked, genuinely confused as he poured two glasses of lemonade and watched as his son took the pills he'd handed over.

"You saved my life that night. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be sitting here," Steve said.

"I did what I had to do," Mark said.

"I know, and that's what you need to remember," Steve told him. "Tatiana chose the way she lived and who she lived with. She didn't have to join a gang or turn to a life of crime."

"How do we know that, Steve?"

"Because we're all given a choice…I know Tatiana's life was hard, but what she did…what she chose to do was steal and hurt people and from what Captain Newman told me she's killed at least two people. She's not innocent, Dad…"

"No, but she's dead…and…"

"I'm alive, Dad," Steve said and hoped his father understood what he was saying. Tatiana would have killed him without remorse if his father hadn't stopped her, but it would take a long time for that sorrow to leave Mark Sloan's face.

"I know, and God help me I'd do it again if I had to, Steve, and that's what makes it so hard. I swore I'd do everything I could to save lives…not take one," Mark told him.

"Dad, I see death every damn day in my job and I'm sworn to protect the people of this city including the ones that decide to take matters into their own hands. It's not easy to take a life and if it ever does become easy then it's time to find a new career," the injured man supplied.

"That's what makes you a good cop," Mark told him.

"It's also what makes you a good doctor…you're passionate about saving lives and I've seen you when someone doesn't make it. It tears you apart, Dad, but it also makes you stronger because you dig deeper and work even harder to save the next one. Don't let Tatiana's death sour the good you've done…the lives you saved," Steve said.

"I'll try, Son, but I won't promise it'll be easy."

"It never is, Dad, but that's what makes you special…you're willing to try," the younger Sloan explained.

"When did you get so smart?"

"I think I come by it honestly…from both sides of the family," Steve answered with a grin. He settled back with the ice cold glass of lemonade and hoped the hint of a smile on his father's face was a sign that he could see past his involvement in Tatiana's death for good. He placed the glass on the table and closed his eyes, listening as the older man moved around the patio and soft music reached his ears.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve knew he'd dozed off when he heard voices talking softly nearby. He opened his eyes and smiled at the two people sitting at the patio table.

"Welcome home, Sleeping Beauty," Amanda teased.

"Guess I must have fallen asleep…where's dad?"

"He's in the kitchen making salad," Jesse answered and studied his friend's face. "I could have sworn you were supposed to come home and rest…"

"I was resting…looks like I slept the afternoon away," Steve told him.

"The afternoon and part of the evening," Amanda corrected. "Do you need anything?"

"Coffee," Steve answered.

"I'll be right back," Amanda said and left the two men alone.

"Okay, Steve…doctor to patient…how do you feel?"

"Surprisingly better than I thought," Steve answered honestly.

"Good, any pain here," Travis asked and pointed to the wound made by Tatiana.

"Sometimes, but not like it was, Jesse, I think everything's finally healing."

"Thank God," the younger man acknowledged. "How's Mark? Did he talk to you about what happened?"

"He's okay, but you know dad, Jesse. Tatiana's death took a lot out of him, but I think he's coming to terms with the fact that he didn't have a choice…she didn't give him one," Sloan explained.

"No, she didn't," Jesse readily agreed. "I heard Damian Ryan was held over for trial and denied bail."

"Yes, he was and I hope that's the last we ever hear of El Diablo."

"Me too…but it won't be long before there's another bunch looking to take over their turf," Travis said sadly and listened to the tranquil sounds of the ocean and gulls flying high overhead. He loved coming out here to visit the Sloans and stood up to help Amanda with the tray she carried.

"Dinner's ready," Amanda said.

"Good, I'm starved," Steve told her and looked around.

"What's wrong, Son?" Mark asked as he placed the salad on the table.

"I…just wondering where the cake is?"

"It's inside and it stays there until you eat," Amanda told him.

"Oh, come on, Amanda, have pity on a poor injured…"

"Not on your life, Steve…salad…main course and then dessert," Bentley warned and smiled as she served the salad. "French or Italian?"

"Chocolate," Steve answered with a grin.

"On your salad…well that's weird, but I'll see if Mark has any…"

"Italian," Steve told her and relaxed when he saw a real on his father's face. It would take time for his father to completely recover from what happened, but there was no doubt that he would. Amanda and Jesse would be there to help, of that he was sure, but there would be times when he and Mark would sit down for a quiet evening and talk about the lives they'd been unable to save. Death and life were a natural part of both their jobs and always would be…they just needed to remind themselves that they were not alone and had friends who would be there for them.

"So, Mark, when are you seeing Anna again?" Jesse asked.

"Now, Jesse, a man has to keep some secrets," the older Sloan answered.

"Come on, Mark, I know you two are…"

"Friends, Jesse, just friends...now Steve and Connie are a different story," Mark offered.

"Connie and I are friends…"

"What is it with men?" Bentley asked, shaking her head as she looked at the smiling trio. "Why can't you just admit it when you have feelings for someone?"

"Where's the fun in that, Amanda?" Steve asked.

"What do you mean?" the pretty woman asked.

"Don't mind them, Amanda, they just like getting arise out of you," Travis said.

"Is that right…well maybe I should have a heart to heart talk with Connie and Anna and tell them about you two…"

"No need for that, Amanda…we can…"

"Got you," Amanda said and the group relaxed as heartfelt laughter eased the turmoil from their lives at least for now.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

"Here, let me help you, Son," Mark Sloan offered as Steve tried to get the tie right. Two months had passed since Tatiana's death and he was finally coming to terms with the decision he'd been forced to make. Steve had finally been cleared to return to light duties and was anxious to get back to work. Damian Ryan plead guilty to murder and attempted murder and was awaiting sentencing in prison.

"Thanks, Dad, come on or we're going to be late," Steve said.

"And whose fault is that?" Mark asked with a grin.

"Come on, Dad, I feel like a school kid on his first date."

"Well, you look pretty good in that monkey suit," the elder Sloan teased.

"Maybe I should change…"

"Come on, Son, you look fine," Mark said.

"You sure?"

"I am…"

"You look great, Dad, Anna's going to have to fight them back," Steve said seriously as he walked up the stairs. His father looked after himself and always had and that was something the nurses at Community General commented on every time Steve was a patient there.

"Thanks," Mark said as they locked up the house and headed for his car. They would pick Anna and Connie up before making their way toward the restaurant for dinner and dancing. The tickets had cost 100.00 per person and all proceeds would go toward the pediatric wing at Community General.

**DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM **

Steve smiled as he knocked at Connie's door and turned to see his father and Anna Downey in the front seat of the car. The nurse looked beautiful in a long shimmering blue evening gown with a diamond necklace and matching earrings.

Steve turned back to the door and smiled appreciatively at the woman standing before him. Her hair hung down over her shoulders, pinned back slightly on both sides by a set of pearl clips. The gown she wore was a beautiful shade of emerald green that brought out the deep green of her eyes.

"Connie, you look beautiful," he managed and kissed her gently.

"Down, Big Boy, or we won't be going to any dinner…"

"I could tell dad and Anna we'll catch up with them later…say in about a week," Steve said.

"Keep it up and I might just take you up on that offer," Connie said, laughing when a horn sounded and Steve reluctantly released her. They made their way to the car and Steve held the door for her before going around to his side and getting in.

"Anna, it's good to see you again."

"You too, Connie," Downey said as Mark drove them to the restaurant. They exited the car and Mark passed his keys to the valet driver before taking Anna's arm and walking up to the door.

"They make a wonderful couple," Connie whispered to her date.

"She's good for him," Steve told her, reaching into his pocket and taking out the tickets as they reached the front of the line and entered the restaurant. He smiled at several people he knew and followed his father and Anna to the table they'd be sharing. He held her chair for Connie as his father did the same for Anna.

Mark looked up as a waitress dressed in a black skirt, white blouse, and string tie came over with a bottle of red wine and a bottle of white wine wrapped in white linen. She poured them each a glass before moving to the next table.

"Steve, Mark told me you're scheduled to go back to work on light duties," Anna said.

"First thing Monday morning," the younger Sloan told her.

"Just try not to be Superman," Downey warned sternly.

"I won't," Steve assured her.

"I'll believe that when I see it," Anna teased as soft music played in the background.

"He doesn't have a choice…Captain Newman won't let him mess up," Mark told them, relaxing as he watched his son and date. Connie Evans was good for Steve and he hoped the duo continued to see each other. He turned his head toward his own date and realized he could very easily fall in love with this woman. Maybe it was time to think about a serious relationship, and Anna Downey could certainly match him in a verbal sparring match.

"What are you thinking about, Dad?" Steve asked.

"Just thinking how lucky you and I are," Mark answered and smiled. "We cornered the market on beautiful women."

"That we did, Dad, that we did," Steve said and held Connie close as his father did the same. It felt good to see his father laughing and smiling and that was something he hoped was a sign that Mark Sloan was coming to terms with what had happened and for that Steve gave thanks. Come Monday he'd be behind a desk, and that was okay because there was a lot more to police work than just catching men like Damian Ryan…they needed to make sure they had the evidence to keep him behind bars where he belonged.

"To the future," Mark said and held up his glass of wine.

"The future," the others agreed and let the world outside this room slip away for just a little while.

**The End!**


End file.
